


Maps for the Getaway

by queuedepoisson, winglesswarrior



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, a little bit of Harry Styles/Nick Grimshaw, angst to happy to angst to happy, bad communication skills, recreational/binge drinking, roadtrip au, solo famous AU, unsafe vehicular maintenance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-11-19 19:27:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 51,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11320086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queuedepoisson/pseuds/queuedepoisson, https://archiveofourown.org/users/winglesswarrior/pseuds/winglesswarrior
Summary: Louis and Liam used to be best friends who were sure they were both going to make it big. That shared dream kept them going through the hard times in a tiny bedsit in London. Too bad they only got successful after splitting apart, Louis as an indie rocker and Liam as a solo pop star.Flash forward a few years, mere months from a co-headlining tour, they have to figure out a way past the fight that drove them apart to get along. Liam comes up with the bright idea that re-creating a road trip they took ages ago will give them a chance to resolve their issues. Separated by time and with miles still to travel, can Louis and Liam escape the mistakes of their past to reach new horizons? Or, like the M6 on a wet Tuesday morning, are they doomed to relive the past forever?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> We can't believe this is done. This has been years in the making and it's finally here. Ah-maz-ing. 
> 
> Much love for our betas, our artists, ours SO's who tolerated us, our friends who lets us rant and probably the whole of twitter for listening to us go on and on about this for ages. 
> 
> Obviously, we don't own 1D and this is fictional, based off of ideas in our little heads. 
> 
> This started as a song fic of sorts, but obviously isn't, but there is a [spotfiy playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/winglesswarrior/playlist/3r1SkwOEff1BIdNC4OHN9y) if you want to listen along / hear our inspiration. 
> 
> Title comes from "Maps For The Getaway" by Andrew McMahon In The Wilderness (also the first song on the above list) 
> 
> So much love to our gorgeous artist. See the accompanying art here

“Get in the car, Louis.” Liam was pretty sure he looked like an idiot, standing there holding the door to his Land Rover open for the past five minutes while he waited for the man on the pavement to get in the damn car. 

“I don’t know if I want to.” Louis crossed his arms over his chest. His duffle bag, the same one he’d had the entire time Liam had known him, now held together with duct tape and covered in even more Sharpie sketches, was slung over his shoulder, like he was ready to go, and yet he still stood there defiantly. Getting Louis packed and out of the flat had been the easy part, but apparently that was only because Louis Tomlinson would rather have the argument portion of this on the street instead of in his flat or in the car. “I’m pretty sure this is kidnapping, Payno. You could go to jail.” 

Liam closed his eyes briefly to keep from bashing his head against the car door. “It’s not kidnapping if you get in voluntarily…” 

“Who says I’m getting in voluntarily? Maybe I want you to come over here and drag me into the car.” Louis gave Liam his best come hither look and Liam rolled his eyes. Some things about Louis were remarkably different, like the facial hair dusting his chin or the extra tattoos that Liam could see where his sleeve was pushed up on one arm. His hair was longer, messier, but it looked just as good as it did when he wore it glossy and straight. He barely looked like the guy who’d all but banged into Liam’s personal space at an open mic night three years ago. Some things were exactly the same, however, like his ability to be a giant pain in Liam's arse when he felt like it. 

“We’re gonna have to do this exact same thing in a few weeks,” Liam pointed out, completely ignoring the look no matter how tempting it was. 

“Oh no, we have separate buses. I requested that. I was demanding on that point.” 

“So I heard. Which is why I’m here. You almost turned this tour down for both of us because you hate me, so get in the car so I can fix that.” 

Louis arched an eyebrow at Liam. “You think getting in the car is going to fix how much I hate you?” 

“It has before,” Liam said with a shrug, giving up on holding the door and walking around to the driver’s side to get in. All Louis had to do was get in the car to see if it would work the same way again. Back when Liam had known how to handle Louis. Letting Louis feel like he had won the battle and made the decision for himself was often the best strategy to get him to do what Liam wanted in the first place. Hopefully, that much hadn’t changed with his hair. 

There was a long moment where Louis stayed on the curb, eyes clouded while he worked through something, otherwise managing to keep the emotion off his face as he did it. Liam had seen that look before, in interviews of Louis with his band that Harry kept insisting that Liam should shouldn’t watch, but he watched anyway. It was his go-to look when he was deciding how to answer a question or deal with something. It was a new tactic Louis had now; long gone were the carefree days of Louis wearing his emotions on his sleeve. Liam began to worry that his plan had fallen apart before it had even started, that Louis truly would refuse and there would be no trip. The last time they had gotten in a car this at odds with each other, Louis had been mad at him, but nothing like how he hated Liam now. Still, if it brought them together once, Liam didn't think it was too much to ask that this time it could at least get them to the point where they could stand each other. 

Eventually, after a minute or so of tense waiting, Louis landed on whatever decision he needed to make and sighed heavily, stomping towards the door and throwing his bag in the back with Liam’s. “ _Fine_ , Payno. Kidnap me. But I swear, if you kill me, I will haunt your arse.” 

Liam rolled his eyes and put the car into drive before pulling out, starting them down the roads that would lead them out of the trendy neighborhood that Louis lived and then out of London all together. “Trust me, that’s the last thing I want.” Louis haunted him enough already. 

Louis flicked him off and fiddled with the radio, cycling through all of all of Liam’s preset stations. Eventually he settled on the station that tended to play his band the most, though Liam would never admit to giving the station that designation in his mind. Otherwise Louis was silent, staring out the passenger window as they left London, not saying anything until they were headed northeast out of the city. 

“Where are we going anyway?” 

Liam guessed that he realized they were headed towards Louis’ hometown and not his, but he didn’t point that out. Instead he reached across Louis, trying hard not to be upset at the way Louis recoiled back, then popped the glove compartment and pulled out a map, handing it to Louis.

The map was older, folded back all wrong, but who could fold maps back the right way anyway? It was covered in doodles, places circled, notes written directly on it in two distinct handwritings. There was a notebook in his bag with the same pair of handwritings throughout it as well. Judging by the way Louis froze when he saw it, Liam guessed he remembered it well enough. “Why don’t you pick?” Liam suggested. 

Louis looked at the map, but didn’t open it, turned it over twice before shoving it back in the glove compartment and slamming the door shut harder than necessary. “Just drive wherever the fuck you want, Liam.” 

\--------

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." Louis fell face first onto the bed and let the phone fall out of his hand, praying to God the screen didn't crack again when it slid across the floor. He knew his job had a point, that calling in an hour before a weekend dinner shift was a sackable offense, but what were you supposed to do when you got a call about an emergency open slot at The Underworld? Sure, going on at eight to a crowd of about two dozen people wasn't exactly the big leagues, but it wasn't so bad either considering the headliners hadn't gone on until eleven. The turnout would have been better had there been more time to bully the usual crowd on Facebook into going.

Liam showed up from his last voice lesson of the day right as they went on so that was all that mattered. Louis missed working at the music store with Liam, no late night shifts, being surrounded by what he loved, except his lack of patience didn't lend itself to forcing kids into doing scales for hours at a time. Liam hadn't asked any questions that night about how Louis had gotten the night off from the restaurant, but he would when Louis only had sixty pounds to show for a weekend's worth of work instead of two full shifts plus tips.

For Liam, getting a flatmate was supposed to mean not worrying about making rent anymore. For Louis, it was about having a real mattress to sleep on instead of a couch, even if they had to take shifts sleeping on the one twin bed. Louis looked to the left and saw a half bottle of gin. It was tempting to add a shot to his tea getting cold on the counter, but it wasn't like there'd be money for another one so he would rather save it for celebration, not self pity.

Instead, he crawled to the right side of the bed and reached for his phone where it had come to a stop against an amp. Curling up against the pillow, he called the top entry on his favorites and popped it on speaker phone. He smothered his face in the pillow as he listened to it ring. He realized it was Liam's pillow, not his, after the fact and Liam would likely be upset if Louis offed himself with his pillow.

"Liam Payne." Liam always managed to sound so professional when he answered the phone, like this would be the time it was an agent returning his call, never bothering to look at the caller ID.

"Give me some good news, Payno," Louis hollered back.

Liam sighed. "Can't. Had a meeting this morning."

"What do you mean? That's great news -"

"It was all of five minutes for them to tell me they'd already gone with someone else with more _spark_. One of them studio created bands."

Louis scoffed. "Well then that's fine, you woulda said no anyway. You would have outshone the other guys."

"I might've said yes, Lou, I don't know anymore. Don't know if I can hack it on my own, maybe can't hack it at all."

"C'mon, no talk like that. Need a new plan of attack is all. I, uh, swapped shifts with someone who needed a weekday off so we've got all day to come up with something if you're not working."

"You're too nice for your own good. Not gonna make nearly as many tips on a weekday and with last night off, too." It was like Liam wanted to make Louis' quick lie more painful and Louis wished he wasn't shit at every job that wasn't being a rockstar, but apparently open positions for rockstars were harder to come by than he had originally thought. "But no, I'm not working. Rescheduled all my lessons for this meeting that turned out to be a colossal waste of time because I'm pants at this."

"I said to quit that bollocks, so quit it and come home." Louis was getting impatient, but he was too sleepy to try and cheer Liam up with words. Words required being clever and he needed a nap to be clever. Smothering hugs would work just as well for Liam's grumpy mood and Louis could sleep through those.

"It's only half nine. Figured you'd be asleep at least another three hours so I was gonna go by the coffee shop, see if there were any new open mics we hadn't seen posted or extra shifts to pick up.” All of that sounded pretty typical for Liam, except for the slight hesitation on the line that followed, less typical. “Plus, I’ve got errands to run."

Louis had fuck all clue what errands meant, sounding far too much like what boring properly employed adults did, but Liam's suggestion of sleeping longer was awfully attractive. Louis had gotten in particularly late after the show last night, hoping that he'd be able to make some sort of connection. All he'd gotten out of it in the end was some free beer and slightly more damaged hearing. The technical term for how he felt was bloody exhausted, but convincing Liam that neither of them had room for ‘can’t hack it' talk seemed like a far more important issue as long as he could keep his eyes open. 

Liam was still going on when Louis started listening again. "There's not enough room for two people in that bed, so don't tell me you need help falling back asleep."

"Oi, I said get home, so listen to me for once."

The sigh on the other end of the line made it sound like Louis was the most trying thing in Liam’s life, and while that might be the case, Louis liked to think he was also the most favorite thing in Liam’s life, so it all balanced out. “Errands first. I have to get these things done today. Then straight home.” 

“Fiiiinne,” Louis drew the word out enough that Liam chuckled slightly before disconnecting, leaving Louis to himself. It wasn’t the ringing laugh that Louis would have preferred, but he supposed Liam's shit morning gave him license to be a little short with his laughter. At least Liam running errands would give Louis plenty of time to figure out how he was going to get them to forget about their shit mornings and back to laughing the right way.

It also should have been plenty of time to take care of a few chores of his own, like shower away the cigarette smoke in his hair perhaps, but Liam’s pillow was soft and smelled like him and it was altogether too easy to drift off for a few hours. It was afternoon when he woke with a bit of a start, having sweat entirely through his shirt into the bed. The charity shop fan that had gotten them through the beginning of the summer had decided to die once and for all earlier in the week and, while it hadn't been unbearable most mornings, every hour of sunshine seemed to turn the oven of a room up another degree. Why had his beautiful, cold, drizzly London, tailor made for brooding artists, forsaken him with something as awful as summer in the city?

Louis sat up and peeled his shirt off before groping the sheets to find his phone. No texts from Liam and, as he looked around the single room that made up their accommodations, no sign of him either. After a quick all caps 'WHERE R U ??' text, Louis accepted the unavoidable truth, that he now stunk of cigarette smoke and sweat, and headed down the hall with his towel and toiletries to shower. For once, the lack of hot water wasn't a particular annoyance and it was midday, so no one banged on the door as he sang to himself.

Halfway through shampooing his hair and the second chorus of 'Air Hostess', Louis started recalling bits and pieces of the dream that had woken him so abruptly. It was a confusing mix of images, highways and beaches and stages and lights, but the message of adventure was clear. The answer to all their problems lay out of town, somewhere the wind blew more than smog-filled air around, where they could really feel something. Their careers and lives depended upon it. 

As soon as the soap was out of his hair, Louis jumped out of the shower and ran back to the room, skipping conditioner and barely bothering with the towel as he left a trail of water behind him. There was no time for things like that now that he had a mission to undertake. Liam was going to think he was crazy, but what was new about that? There was a missed message from Liam when he checked his phone for how much time had passed while he showered: 'be home sooooooonnnn.' Louis impressed himself by correctly typing 'HURRY !!!!!!' on the first try at the same time as he hopped into his last clean pair of pants.

Louis grabbed the duffle that had once held all of his earthly possessions when he first arrived in London, improved since then with doodles by himself and friends, and commenced with shoving whatever looked relatively clean in the bag, first his clothes, then Liam's. Louis was bent over, still only in his pants and a tshirt, pulling the sheets and pillows off the bed into a bundle, when Liam came through the door finally. Louis was looking at him upside down when Liam asked with wide eyes, "Did we get evicted?"

Once Louis was righted, he felt a little bad about the frown and pinched eyebrows on Liam's face. Rather than address that look, Louis bustled past Liam to put the bedclothes with the bag next to the front door. "What? No. That's ridiculous." It wasn’t that ridiculous considering Louis no longer had a job and his entire savings plan was a hundred quid from his birthday that he’d hidden from himself until now to fund their impending adventure. But no, they weren’t evicted, yet. 

"Then what's going on?" Liam spun as Louis bumped him again on his way to pack Liam's guitar, happy to hide his face for a second while he tried to produce with an answer that didn't involve the words 'revelatory vision.' Liam was still standing there next to the door, slack jawed, as Louis added the guitar to the pile.

With a hand on each bicep, Louis walked a somewhat stunned Liam to the counter they called a kitchen because it's where they kept the kettle and raised a finger indicating for Liam to wait. Louis opened the cabinet looking for shot glasses, to only find an oversized plastic cup from some restaurant and Liam's tea mug. They would have to do. Liam's eyes followed him and widened again as Louis retrieved the bottle of gin and emptied a shot into each cup. He had been on target about saving booze for a celebration, and an idea as brilliant as this deserved celebrating, as soon as he worked out how to explain it.

Satisfied with his dramatic pause, Louis took the stupid professional looking portfolio Liam carried around to meetings out of his hands and replaced it with the tea mug. "You told me you were free, so drink up, and then we're off. The road calls."

“Louis, I don’t drink during the day.” Louis was inordinately proud of those last three words, having corrupted Liam from his previously teetotaling stance, but it was all for naught if Liam didn't trust him to take a shot when Louis knew he was going to need one. In this case and most cases, so he would go along with Louis' schemes. Louis ignored his own cup to nudge Liam's closer to his mouth.

“You do today. Don't argue with Doctor Tommo." Liam's nod didn't look particularly full of confidence, but he did as he was told "There's a good lad, let's go." 

Still coughing and wiping his mouth, Liam's question was a bit more demanding this time. "Wait, where are we going?"

Louis looked through the rest of the cabinets for something they could snack on during the drive, coming up empty handed less one package of stale crisps that he grabbed anyway. "On a trip. Do keep up.” 

“What trip? Where? Oh god, we did get thrown out, didn’t we?” Liam tried to grab Louis' arm and make him stand still so he could be absolutely certain Louis was telling the truth, Louis' fibbing skills significantly reduced when looking Liam in the eye.

“We did _not_." Louis shook Liam by the shoulders to emphasize his point. "Stop that nonsense. We’re going on a spiritual mission. I had a dream about it; it’s vital.” Louis' worries were justified. Liam did look at him like he was crazy, but hadn't begun to talking him out of it either, so there was hope. "It's the sort of thing that happens to real artists. And we're real artists, right?"

Louis felt triumphant, if a bit put out, when Liam lifted the second shot meant for him and downed it as well. “Oh god." Liam made a pinched disgusted face, then waved in Louis direction with an air of resignation. "Well, alright then, come on. Let’s get going, right?” 

"You're in?" Louis did not jump for joy. More of a restrained hop.

“I guess so." Evidently, the first wave of heat from the alcohol had passed because, frustratingly, responsible Liam had gotten the reins back from fun Liam again. “But, where again? And how long? I’ve got a shift at the coffee shop tomorrow.” 

It was like Liam didn't know the first thing about playing hooky, but that was possibly why Liam was able to hold down two jobs when Louis couldn't manage to keep one. “Call in sick. We’re going where the wind takes us!” 

Liam mumbled something that sounded a lot like he might actually be sick before rubbing at his temple. “I can maybe get Haz to cover for me.”

“That's the spirit. Of course he'll cover for you. He’ll love that. You can call him from the van.” Liam was going to find with other reasons they couldn't go if he let him stand there much longer, so Louis tried loading Liam up with the duffle bag to carry down. “Come on, we’re packed and ready to go.”

“Packed? You packed for me?” Liam unzipped the bag to evaluate exactly what Louis considered packing. How could someone be so fussy about putting things in a bag?

“Of course I did. I know how to put socks and pants in a bag. I even grabbed your favorite shirt.” What more could Liam ask for? Louis was awesome at this and they were going to have a wonderful time. 

Liam was still trying to rummage through the bag while standing before he looked up. “What about my toothbrush?”

“Errr…” 

“What about your toothbrush?” 

“Ehhh.” 

Liam scanned by the sink and counter. "Where is the wash bag anyway?"

Louis had totally forgotten about it in the bathroom along with his trousers. He was sure he would have remembered before getting out the door, maybe. "I took a shower?" Louis supplied, like it was some kind of hygienic peace offering and answer all in one.

Liam rolled his eyes and dropped the bag back to the floor. “I’m not spending the next few days with you without you brushing your teeth. Your feet smell bad enough,” Liam complained as he headed to the bathroom.

"Bring back my jeans with you too, yeah?" Louis called out after him, already reaching for Liam's portfolio so he could hide it while Liam was out of the room. There was no way Louis was going to allow business to get in the way of their journey of self discovery and adventure, but maybe there was some sense in hiding a demo CD or two in the side pocket of their bag, just in case. He was rummaging through the pockets, imagining getting discovered in some shitty karaoke bar or stopping at a petrol station at the same time as some big-name producer, when a rectangular slip of card floated to the floor.

Louis grabbed it to put it back, but stopped when he recognized what it was, a train ticket. Upon closer inspection, Louis saw it was a ticket to Wolverhampton. He went through the folders again, looking for the return trip ticket that must have been next to it. There had to be one and yet it wasn't there. Liam wasn't the type to not buy both at the same time and he wasn't the type to not tell Louis he was taking a trip home either, which set off the worst fears in Louis' belly, that Liam hadn't planned on needing a return ticket.

How soon had Liam planned on using it? Had he planned on even saying anything to Louis? Liam had been down earlier, talking about giving up, but Louis assumed it was normal whinging about it being difficult, because it had always been difficult. But a ticket, this was real concrete evidence that Liam wasn't merely talking about giving up, he had given up, and he had called it errands, without even telling his best friend and flatmate that he was leaving.

The dream made more sense than ever because it was clearly time for desperate measures. Louis knew he was a long shot for real stardom, but Liam, Liam was special, and if he gave up, with his amount of talent, what hope did Louis have? Louis hated the feeling of self-pity growing in his stomach and threw the portfolio across the room, skipping across the floor under the bed. He punched it down and replaced it with anger. He still wasn't sure where they were going, but wherever it was meant keeping Liam away from a train station until Louis had given him a piece of his mind.

Louis didn't bother saying a word when Liam came back with the wash bag, busy shoving the CDs and his lyrics notebook into a backpack. He grabbed the damp bag and threw it in with everything else because what did it matter? “Haz said he’d take my shift,” Liam said. “But I’ve got to be back by Monday.” So he planned to use the ticket on Monday then. Maybe it was jumping to conclusions, except Louis wouldn't have to if Liam had bothered to share any of it with him.

Louis yanked his jeans from Liam's hand and pulled them on roughly. "Whatever, Payno. Come on." He threw the blankets and pillows at Liam so he wouldn’t have to look at the confused look on his stupid face. Keys and mobile shoved in his pocket, Louis left a bewildered Liam in his wake as he stormed out of their place. His place. Whatever it was it was about to be empty if Louis didn’t do something about it right this second.

Liam stood in the doorway, weighed down with the duffle now as well, when Louis turned around at the end of the hall. "I said, get in the car, Liam."

\----------

Liam glanced over for the third time in the past half hour, checking to make sure Louis was still there. He’d never seen the other man so quiet, one knee pulled up to his chest with one of his ratty Vans on the nice leather seat. His eyes were permanently fixed out the window, but the look on his face said he wasn’t really watching the scenery go by. Liam was shocked again at how while Louis looked so different and so unlike his Louis, he was still essentially the same. His nose still crinkled a little when he thought hard about something, the lines of his mouth still went tight when he was trying to keep whatever emotion he was feeling off his face. 

He caught the way Louis' fingers tightened around his ankle as they passed a certain stretch of motorway they’d spent too much time at years before and Liam choked out a laugh because he couldn’t process the emotion that just that little action from Louis created. 

“What?” It was the first thing Louis had said in so long that Liam almost startled at the noise. 

“Nothing.”

“You’re laughing. What’s funny?” 

Liam debated telling Louis what had made him smile and chuckle, not sure which was more likely to push Louis further away, refusing to answer or answering. In the end, refusing to answer seemed less likely to help his end goal so he went with the alternative. “I’d always wondered if you’d forgotten about the last time we did this. Apparently you haven’t.” 

“Why would I forget? I wasn’t the one…” Louis trailed off and looked away, setting his jaw in that tight line again. 

“Wasn’t the one who what?” Liam knew he’d done some things and Louis had done some things, but he wasn’t sure which ones Louis was thinking about.

“Nothing. Stop up here, yeah?” He waved at a sign for a petrol station ahead. “You kidnapped me without letting me wee before we left,” he grumbled. 

“Still not kidnapping when you get in the car willingly,” Liam pointed out once more. He pulled off at the station as asked, another familiar landmark it turned out. It was funny but not in a way that made Liam want to laugh. It seemed Louis felt the same, considering the way he was out of the car before Liam even had it in park, door shut behind him, hands shoved in the pockets of his sweatshirt after yanking the hood up over his head. Liam watched him cross the car park, likely for a cigarette, before heading into the shop himself instead to pick up some snacks, mostly Louis’ favorites, some of his, and a couple of bottles of water. 

When he headed back out to the car, Louis was sitting on the bumper, hood still up, feet tapping nervously while he chewed on the side of one of his fingers. “Didn’t decide to run off?” Liam asked, looking down at Louis. He looked smaller and not just because he was sitting. Liam wondered if he was eating or just having too much fun being a rockstar. 

“Where am I going to go?” He waved towards the space around them, which was unsurprisingly bleak. London was so bustling, it was easy to forget how rural the rest of the country was. “Don’t want to get carted off by anything, anyway.” 

“They’d bring you back,” Liam said, holding out one of the bottles of water that Louis snatched from him too quickly. “Even I’ve considered paying Zayn to take you back.” 

“Hah,” Louis answered dryly before getting up and going around to the passenger side. 

Liam let himself back in the driver side, handing the bag of snacks out to Louis. “Can I trust you with these or are you going to eat them all?” Given how thin Louis looked, him eating everything wasn’t really a big deal, but Liam didn’t say that. Making sure Louis took care of himself hadn’t been Liam’s responsibility for a long while. 

“Since when do I eat all your food?” Louis asked as if he was offended, rooting around in the bag all the same.

“Since always?” 

Louis snorted. “Except you haven’t seen me in years.” 

It was a low blow and Liam felt it, clenching his fingers on the steering wheel to keep himself from lashing out. That wouldn’t help anything. “Last year I did. At the award show in the spring.” 

Louis’ fingers stopped rooting for a second before he snorted. “Seeing me perform hardly counts.” 

“Saw you on the red carpet too, you were chatting up that bloke…” 

“Oh yeah. Radio guy. That’s right, he saw you and asked me about you. Had a nice chuckle with him over you not being able to find a girl to go with you to those sort of things.” Louis said girl with too much emphasis, and Liam gripped the wheel again. He knew about that dig, he’d seen it online afterwards. And he knew why Louis was doing it. 

“No point in spending an evening pretending I’m interested in someone I’m not,” Liam ground out. 

“Oh? Just who would you have been interested in spending the evening with?"

“That’s not the point I was trying to make, Lou.” That was a different conversation altogether and one Liam was pretty sure he didn’t want to be driving for. It wasn’t that he’d hidden it, there just… hadn’t been anyone after Louis. No one that had really held his fancy. And if there wasn’t anyone to talk about, why say anything at all? 

“Oh no, you made that point crystal clear years ago. Don’t worry. I haven’t forgotten.” He flicked his hand in Liam’s face, waiving off the argument that had gotten them where they were now like it was nothing. 

Liam hadn’t ever thought of it as nothing. He still woke up in a cold sweat some nights, dreaming about the way Louis had screamed at him to keep from crying, getting louder as tears threatened to fall. Liam hadn’t seen the aftermath, how Louis looked after he left the bedsit and slammed the door behind him. 

He’d heard though. Eventually Louis had called Zayn, who’d called Harry, who’d called Liam sometime after the hired car had dropped him off at the new flat the studio paid for. He’d still been tethered to the shoebox of memories he’d taken from their shared space, not sure how to even breathe after the collection of insults that Louis had hurled at him. Harry had called, desperate to know what had happened and Liam had done the most selfish and despicable thing of his life: he lied. 

He told Harry that he didn’t care about Louis anymore. That they didn’t work well together, that they weren’t even boyfriends for fuck’s sake, nothing more than flatmates that screwed around and it was time to move on. Louis was going on tour; Liam was going into the studio. Holding on to whatever they had was stupid and Harry needed to lay off. 

Harry had tried, saying that Louis was upset, that was why Zayn had called, and maybe Liam should reconsider. Liam had hung up on him, not trying to be a jerk, but he didn’t know what to say. Louis hadn’t been upset, he’d been angry and they had it wrong. It was a long time before Harry called again and, after that, Liam could tell he carefully avoided talking about Louis, even though he’d seen online they were still friends. 

When Liam didn’t answer Louis, too lost in his own thoughts and not sure what to say, Louis made a noise as if the silence proved everything. He went back to looking out the window, but at least he continued to nibble on a pack of crisps.

\-------

"Finally," Louis mumbled under his breath, as they drove under the sign directing them to the M11 about an hour later than he thought they would. It was proof of how little Louis drove anywhere except to and from gigs that he was surprised by how long it took to get to the motorway in rush hour. Construction detours didn't help either and he probably relied far too heavily on signs in a city he's lived in for this long.

Louis delighted in finally rolling down the windows. The heat was making him downright woozy and he hadn't even drank any of the shots. If their tiny bedroom was stifling with no fan, this musty old van that was never meant to go farther than Essex was a new kind of torture. There had been no point in opening the windows when they were on street roads, letting in more exhaust fumes than any breeze. It didn't seem to bother Liam up to now, occasionally squinting out the window but mostly contenting himself with singing along to the radio as it cut in and out.

"Wait, Lou, we're getting on the motorway. Are we leaving the city?" Apparently, Liam had yet to take Louis' threats of an extended car journey particularly seriously. Maybe he thought it was all the set up to a prank or something, ending in a pub with Louis' bandmates and Liam's coworkers laughing at him for falling for another one of The Great Tommo's tricks. Wouldn't that have been something? How many people get a surprise going away party?

Louis snorted bitterly at the idea. "What have I been saying? Road trip, adventure, getting away from it all." He flipped his visor down and over to block the glare flashing in his peripheral vision. They'd gotten a later start than Louis had hoped, but at least the sun dropping in the sky cooled the temperature off a few precious degrees. 

"Okay," Liam drew out cautiously, looking around for another sign. "Getting away to where?"  
It was time to think fast because Louis' vision hadn't been specific on that point. Mostly he had headed north because the roads south were even more congested, filled with upper-middle class twats headed to Brighton or wherever else people like that escaped to in the summer. Too bad Spain didn't fit their nonexistent budget, the beaches in his dream were an important element. Summer in the city was awful, but summer at the beach was something entirely different, something you soaked up and stored away for winter.

"How does Great Yarmouth sound?" Liam looked doubly concerned and confused. "The Pleasure Beach? The pier? Sun, sand, and surf. All the makings of a good summer escape." Louis hoped he sounded confident, like he'd had an idea in place from the very beginning.

Confusion was replaced by worry when Liam asked, "Do we have the money for that?"

"Yes." Maybe not and make rent, but he supposed when Liam was back in Wolverhampton, he wouldn't be particularly troubled about that anymore.

Liam shifted over to peek at the dash, making a face when the seat shifted with him. "And enough petrol?"

" _Yes_." He was guessing. The gauge hadn't worked on the van in the time Louis had owned it, but that hadn't detracted from the main selling point, that it could hold all of the band's gear in one trip. He had never driven it far enough to get quite the full shaking death trap effect they were getting now.

Liam looked doubtful, yet settled back into his seat with a creak. "And you know how to get there?"

"Liam, enough, yes." No clue, he hadn't been since he was a child, but he had a general idea where it was and that's what signs were for. If Liam could hide something so big from Louis, he didn't feel particularly bad about a few little white lies.

"One more question and I'll stop. Promise." Louis rolled his eyes, then gestured for Liam to continue anyway. "You'll go on the flume with me?"

Louis dared a glance over to see Liam beaming at him, happy smile filling his face, lighting up his eyes, and regretted it instantly. It only served to remind him that Liam wouldn't be there to look at him like that much longer and he tried to harden himself to it, to hate that smile, but it was a poor attempt. "Course I will, any ride you want," Louis replied, staring intently at the road ahead while he struggled to keep his emotions tamped down.

Despite his promise, Liam kept up his questions to the point he turned the radio down halfway. He was excited as a little kid now that he had warmed to the concept, following Louis wherever Louis went. Louis should have been happy with such a resounding success, Liam affirming Louis' idea as indeed genius, except each question was another match Liam was unwittingly throwing at a powder keg.

Liam finally quieted down after Louis answered the fifth time in a row with a noncommittal grunt. It was the most he could manage while biting his tongue. If this was their last chance to spend time together, Louis didn't want to ruin it with a fight, but his resolve on that matter was slipping.

“I just have to be back by Monday,” Liam finished with and Louis gripped the steering wheel so hard it might break. So he could take his stupid train back home. So he could give up and leave Louis penniless and best friend-less. Louis waited for something, anything, for Liam to continue and say why Monday was so damn important. No words came from the passenger seat.

“Whatever." Louis spit out before formulating something less combative. "Spiritual journey, Liam. Can’t put a timeline on it.” Louis gave himself an internal pat on the back for mostly not sounding like his teeth were gritted together when he replied.

He must haven't been as successful as he hoped because Liam hesitated before asking. “Don't get me wrong, I'm excited, but since when is a fun park a spiritual journey? Sounds more like a holiday.”

Louis doubled his efforts to put on a fine show of cheerfulness. “I’m of the firm belief that it could very well be both, thank you very much, Liam Payne.” 

"Fair enough." Liam sounded chastised enough. He still futzed with the dials and sang along, quieter now. It shouldn't have annoyed Louis the way it did, Liam's perfect falsetto singing along with Cheryl on the radio. It never did when they were at home, even when Louis was pretending to sleep through it. But right now Louis couldn't stand the sound of Liam's voice and this bright idea to lock himself in a car with him was quickly becoming a nightmare.

Not once in two hours had Liam chosen to say something about his tickets, his plans, to confide in Louis or explain it to him. That was the point of roadtrips, not the candyfloss and roller coasters at the end. How could Louis convince him that leaving London, leaving him, was the worst idea ever if Liam didn't even have the balls to bring it up?

Louis knew he needed to move a lane over, the sliproad to head east coming up soon, but when he sped up to pass someone, he didn't change lanes. Instead, he kept his foot on the accelerator and pressed harder down, the anger bubbling too close to the surface. Fun in the sun wasn't the answer to something as painful as this. He was practically rewarding Liam for making a terrible decision.

The van was making an awful noise as the sliproad came and went. Liam looked first at the exit and then at Louis and then the speedometer. "Uh, Lou, I think that was the way to Yarmouth. And I'm not sure the van is quite able to keep up with you."

"Know a shortcut," Louis spit out. Liam nodded uneasily and tightened his grip on the door handle. Mouth shut tight in a hard line, Louis gave up on otherwise controlling his face, brows pulled together and nostrils flared. Liam watched him as they passed Cambridge with no sign of slowing down.

"We're not going to Yarmouth," Liam stated matter-of-factly, handling Louis carefully like a wild animal. "I… uh, are we going to Doncaster?"

"Why would you think that? Have home on your mind, Liam?" Liam swallowed hard at Louis' angry questions, but left them unanswered. That was the last straw for Louis, that Liam couldn't even tell him when he gave him an in, practically outright asked. If Liam was going to treat him like a wild animal, he was going to act like one, lashing out when wounded. "Why so quiet all of a sudden?"

When Liam answered, it was with a question of his own. "Lou, why did we pass the exit?"

“Because pleasure beaches and roller coasters aren’t for quitters, Liam!” Louis’ voice was much louder than he expected it to be, but he’d been holding back for as long as he could. 

Liam sunk into his seat, trying to disappear in the cracks of the ripped vinyl and looking at his hands instead of outside. “How’d you-”

“Not because you told me, that’s for damn sure! Not before you bought that fucking ticket, not when you got home, not in the last two fucking hours you've been sitting right next to me, like I'm some fucking idiot.”

Louis wanted Liam to fight back, to give him some clue of what could have pushed him to this, but he stayed quiet compared to Louis' yelling, barely audible over the shaking metal. "I was gonna tell you, when I got home -"

"Were you?" Louis interrupted spitefully.

"I _was_ ," Liam insisted, raising his voice a notch and giving Louis far too much satisfaction. "But then you were packing and running all over the place and so excited…"

"Right, because when you got home, I didn't know my -," Louis halted on the word best friend. Liam didn't deserve the word. "My _flatmate_ was going to leave me high and dry. What was the plan then? I'd come home and all your stupid stuff would be gone?"

"No, Louis, it's not like..." Liam's eyes darted to the console where the empty tank light flickered weakly. "Don't you think we should pull over -"

Louis' temper was beyond control. "Don't change the subject! It took two fucking hours to get you to say one word!"

"Lou, this is crazy. You don't even know for sure we'll make it to the next service station."

"Shut. Up."

"Fine, you want an explanation?" Liam gave in to the exasperation, the pitch of his voice raising. "You heard me, you've heard every label in town. _I don't have it._ I've gotta listen to them some time."

Louis slammed his fist against the steering wheel and ignored the resulting throb. "The whole fucking point is to not listen to them, you idiot. We were supposed to be in this together." And you abandoned me, he thought. Louis needed to shut up. Instead, he could barely hold any of it in.

He didn't have to worry about saying anything else though, as both of their attention was focused on the van's rattling and the way the speedometer was dropping despite Louis pushing the pedal to the floor. Louis stomped his foot and smacked the dash, but it made no difference as the rattling quieted, the fan puttered, and the vehicle came to a stop on the hard shoulder.

It was Liam's turn to be angry. Not screaming like Louis, but cold and steely. "What just happened? What did I fucking tell you was going to happen?"

"Apparently, you and the van have a special connection. It took after you and quit." Louis threw the van into neutral, as ineffectual as keeping it in drive was, and continued looking dead ahead even as passing cars shook the van back and forth, arms crossed against his chest.

Liam looked from Louis to the road and back. "What are you doing?"

"What else exactly would you have me do, Liam? We're out of fuel."

"But you can't just _stop_. We're on the side of the road."

"I didn't stop. The van stopped; it quit. I’m naming it Liam when you move out in the middle of the night.” Louis smiled cruelly at his own joke. "But I suppose you're right and you love being right, so you can be the one to push us onto the grass while I steer."

Liam looked panicked at the idea of getting out of the van in the fast fading twilight, but he was the one on the grass side so Louis shooed him along with a wave. Once that was taken care of, Louis put on the parking brake and got out too, kicking the van's tire for good measure. With the wind taken out of his anger, the kick did nothing but make his foot hurt. Liam was already leaning on the side shielded from the road, sulking in the aftermath of their fight and following car failure. Louis joined him, shoulder to shoulder, still furious with him as well as their common enemy they rested their backs on.

Liam spoke first, the defeated tone of someone too tired to figure out what to do. "Were we ever going to Yarmouth?"

"I think so. I wanted to." Louis shrugged, tiredness defusing some of his anger as well. "There was a beach in my dream. But then -"

"But then you found the ticket," Liam supplied.

"Even then, I thought, if I could say the right thing," Louis sighed as he stared up at the few visible stars coming out early. "You wouldn't go. Wouldn't use it."

Liam shook his head, overgrown curls bouncing awkwardly, but he didn't clarify further. Instead, he squinted back down the road where they had passed by a service station when they were arguing. “We are though, headed to Doncaster now, aren't we?”

“Where else would quitters go?” 

Liam pushed his luck with a smart ass response, “Wolverhampton, actually.” 

Louis laughed softly, thunking his head back against the metal. “You just don’t get it.” 

"Guess not, but you'll fill me in soon enough, yeah? Always have before." Liam turned to face Louis, hair falling over his eyes. The look was sweet and sincere with a puppy dog pout that made Louis lash out with a different kind of anger, jabbing Liam in the groin to make him double over.

"That's what you get for making that face. I’m supposed to be mad at you and you know I can’t be when you make that face.”

“Face? There's no face. I’m not doing it on purpose!” Liam covered his face with his hand, giggling. What was Louis going to do without someone to punch and pinch and laugh like that when he did? Liam peeked over his hand. “Are you really that mad at me?” 

“Incredibly. I hate you a little bit right now.” Louis didn’t mean it and couldn't even bother making it sound like he did, knowing it was a lost cause with how he was smiling at Liam. It had been so much easier to get mad in the car when they weren't looking at each other.

"I promise I wouldn't have left without telling you. I just couldn't figure out how." Louis believed him, should have always believed him, but patience was never his strong suit. Liam looked down the road again. "Think I would have figured it out on the walk to get petrol?"

As if they'd be in this mess if Louis had let Liam work it out on his own time. "Leem, that station is at least three miles away, it's dark out, and who knows if they're even still open." Louis pushed off the van and opened the back door, giving it a sharper tug so it would slide open properly. “Come on, in you get.” 

Liam hesitated, staring in the other direction, as if a station would appear like an oasis. "But…"

"In the morning. We'll take care of it in the morning." Liam looked a little defeated and Louis waved into the van again. “On with you. Go on.”

"And what do we do in the meantime?" Louis cleared their bags out of the way and unfolded the duvet over the metal floor to give Liam somewhere to sit. Liam climbed in, regarding Louis a little skeptically until Louis pulled him the rest of the way with a thud.

"We crash in the van, get some rest, and make the walk in the morning. Or at least you will." That seemed like appropriate penance for not telling Louis everything and then Louis wouldn't have to be so mad at him anymore.

\---------

“Don’t go that way,” Louis blurted right as Liam was about to pull the SUV back onto the motorway. 

“Why not?” Liam asked. “That’s the way we were going before we stopped.” 

“Yeah, but where were we going?” Louis insisted and Liam faltered, not sure how to answer that question. “Doncaster?” Louis pushed. 

“Well…” 

“Yeah, let’s not. You’ve been there before.” Louis popped open the glove compartment grabbing the map out of it even if he looked a little green for an instant. “Odds are nothing there’s changed. You’ve seen the important Louis Tomlinson landmarks, done the whole damn tour and all. We can go somewhere else.” 

Liam didn’t get on the road again, looking over as Louis flipped the map around a few times to find the right place on it. “Have you been back since then?” he asked, and caught Louis cut his eyes over at him. 

“No,” Louis said flippantly. “Brought mom and the kids down to the city last Christmas so I could see them and they could see the lights. I mean… there’s nothing to see.” 

“Your family.” 

Louis shook his head. “They don’t want to see me. Just a different kind of mess, aren’t I?” 

“No one ever said that.” It hurt Liam that Louis would think for a second he wasn’t a success. He was so much, something almost overwhelming every time he was on stage. Seeing Louis sing a single at an award show wasn’t a proper set, but Liam hadn’t seen Louis perform live since before their fight and when he’d gotten the chance at some silly show, he’d taken it. What had been great when they were younger was incredible now. His music was perfect for his voice, his range, and to watch him do it live was breathtaking. The cameras had caught him, just staring, hand over his mouth because he couldn’t control his smile. 

“I’m saying it. Because it’s true.” Louis pointed to a road up ahead to the right. “Go that way.” 

“Where are we going?” Liam asked, trying to lean across the console to see the map. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Louis; he just worried. Louis pulled the map away though, out of Liam’s line of sight. 

“Watch the road, Payno. I got this. You never did have a sense of adventure, did you?” 

Liam leaned back to his side of the car, too caught up in the fact that Louis had used the old nickname. It reminded him of a time long gone, when nicknames were more common than their real names. “I followed you into adventures well enough, didn’t I?” 

Louis’ features twitched, but he hid his real reaction behind the map. “Whatever. Always had to drag you, didn’t I?” 

That was probably true, Liam had always been the responsible one of them. He tugged at his hair with a shrug. “I guess, maybe. Why don’t you just punch the address into my phone,” he tried, handing it over to Louis. “You’re shit at geography. So ‘m I. Let the GPS thingamajig tell us where to go.” 

Louis took his phone, but tossed it over his shoulder into the back of the car and Liam let out a soft breath of relief that he had a hard case on it. The last thing he needed was for it to get smashed. The studio had given it to him less than a week ago, some sort of promo for the version or something. He had his work phone in his bag, but that was the one he was supposed to be ‘seen’ using for the next few months. “Going with the fucking wind, Liam. You didn’t come into this with a plan, don’t expect one now.” 

Liam bit back another sigh of relief, this one more at the fact that Louis hadn’t changed all that much. “Fair enough.” He turned on the radio instead, dropping on a pop hits station that he wouldn’t have to think too much about. Louis eyed it, but didn’t change it, just hummed along to one of the tunes that was playing. Every so often, Louis would give a new direction. Otherwise the silence stretched between them, nothing more than the radio playing. 

They’d passed two towns before Louis set the map down, looking over at Liam. “So… this whole thing…” 

Liam looked up from the road, seeing Louis looking at the map, their map, tracing one of the trails they’d drawn on it. It used to hang on the wall of the bedsit they shared, something they’d tacked up the moment after they got home the last time. It had been their dream map, everywhere they wanted to go, but it had always been together. “Yeah?” 

“Was it just…” 

“Lou, look. I’m… I’m sorry. For… I’m sorry.” 

“Sorry for what, Liam?” 

“That’s not…” For what exactly? Everything? Did everything work? Liam could apologize for falling for Louis, for never telling him, for walking away when he shouldn’t have, for holding back when he shouldn’t have. There were so many things he could apologize for, but he didn’t know where to start. 

“That’s not what you meant to say? Didn’t mean to apologize for anything? Not sorry for a damn thing, huh?” Louis folded the map, wrong again, then threw it at the dashboard. “Fucking figures. Thought you might have something that you wanted to say, something you could finally fucking say and then we could go home, but apparently you don’t even know why the fuck you’re here.” 

“Lou, that’s not… that’s not it. I’m sorry. I’m… sorry I left.” 

“Fuck you.” 

“Louis.” 

“No seriously,” Louis glared at Liam. “Fuck. You. Been meaning to say that for years. Feels good.” 

Louis wrapped his arms around himself, glaring out the window again. Liam fought back a sigh, leaning back in his seat, resting his elbow on the window and twisting his fingers in his hair. It was quiet for another few minutes, then the first bars of one of Liam’s songs started on the radio and he froze, sitting up straighter. He'd performed the song over a hundred times by now, had plenty of other memories he could attach to it, but right now, he was right back to the night he wrote it. It was one of his most popular and he’d written it half drunk in his flat after he’d seen Louis at a function, far on the other side of a ballroom. He’d spent the night trying to talk to people and failing, unable to take his eyes off of Louis. Louis, who’d made a blazer over a t-shirt and jeans look elegant and spent the night talking to a guy who would later become one of the bigger stories of Louis’ public love life, their relationship plastered all over magazines for weeks claiming that it was true love. 

Liam had been stuck with nowhere to go, watching Louis lean into touches, laugh the way he used to with Liam, and all he’d wanted to do was cross the room and stop it. Then the world had decided Louis was in love, for real this time, and Liam had lost his mind. While the pain he’d written about had been specific, he’d still managed to put together a hit that was something others could relate to and no one questioned where the inspiration came from. Liam had been pretty damn proud of it actually. 

He cut his eyes across to Louis as it played, watching Louis tense. He knew. He had to know, didn’t he? Judging by the way Louis was glaring at the stereo like it had betrayed him, he probably did. The song got halfway through the chorus before Louis smacked the button to turn the whole thing off,hard enough to make Liam flinch like he’d hit him. 

“Fuck you.” It was barely there, more watery than before, but Louis pulled his hood back up, drawing his knees up to his chest and turned away, wrapping his arms around his legs, giving Liam nothing to read beyond the way his hand clenched his arm. 

It wasn’t entirely fair. It wasn’t like Louis didn’t have two albums worth of songs that sounded too much like them, but Liam got it. He’d gotten famous off a song they’d written together, a happy song, and he’d stayed there on the songs he’d written about their heartache. Not that he’d ever owned up to it, Louis hadn’t either. It was something people wondered about, unable to completely hide their friendship, from before, but no one knew how much it had meant to either one of them. 

Liam got it though. He didn’t push, just kept driving forward, hoping they didn’t fall off the edge of the country at some point. 

\-------

Even pushed off to the side of the road, the van occasionally rocked back and forth when a lorry went speeding by, but Louis tried to think of it as relaxing. Less relaxing was the way his stomach churned on the half package of crisps he and Liam had split for dinner. The dream of a Ginsters sausage roll waiting for him at that service station was the only way he was ever going to make the walk tomorrow. 

Louis pulled the thin sheet higher over himself, not cold so much as trying to find a comfortable position. The van was pretty warm despite how Louis had cracked the windows an inch when he locked up all the doors. A wheel well dug into his back and the duvet didn't cushion the van floor much, but Louis tried twisting again into a configuration that would let him sleep. It was futile.

"Psst, Liam. Are you asleep?" Louis stretched his leg to toe at Liam who wriggled away from the poke.

"Not even a little." Liam pulled down his sheet with a heavy sigh. "Too nervous."

"About what?" Louis held his breath waiting for Liam's answer. Nervous about going home? Or maybe, just maybe, nervous about staying in London?"

"Like, we're sitting ducks out here. What if robbers broke into the van?"

Louis let out the breath in an aggravated huff. "What the hell are you talking about, Payne? Robbers?"

"Like highway robbery. Highwaymen. Bandits." Liam rolled over to face Louis, inching a little closer in the process. "We're on a highway and someone could rob us."

"Ok, first of all, that's ridiculous." Louis' voice accidentally squeaked he was so incredulous at the things his friend came up with. "What would they even take? Can't steal a car that's got no petrol in it. And second, what _year_ do you think it is?"

Liam rolled back away in embarrassment, but Louis scooted over to make up the difference. "Really, Liam, I never can figure out what's going on in your head." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Louis realized just how true it was, that he hadn't seen any warning signs for Liam giving up. Louis fell back on his back and they both stared at the van ceiling, eyes adjusting well enough in the moonlight to see each other in profile. "Li, why'd you get the ticket now?"

"Wanted to do it before I lost the nerve," Liam answered. Louis was glad he was too tired and too hungry to work himself back into a frenzy at the profoundly defeatist words.

"Losing the nerve to do the most cowardly thing you've ever done? You're a lot of things, an idiot most of all, but I've never taken you for a coward." Liam laughed in response, but it wasn't a funny laugh. It was a dry, sarcastic chuckle at his own expense and Louis wanted to slap the sound from his mouth. "There had to be something that pushed you to do it."

Liam put his hands over his face, rubbing his eyes in exhaustion and frustration. "That's it though. Nothing. Nothing happened. A lack of things happening is what happened." Louis pulled down one of Liam's hands and tilted his head to watch Liam drop the other one too. The reflected moonlight showed Liam's profile as a silhouette and it was oddly beautiful. Louis wondered if that was one of those things that proved Liam was classically beautiful, a strong profile, balanced features, compared to Louis' sharp features and narrow eyes that made him look childish, pretty at best.

Louis was slightly startled when Liam propped himself on an elbow and looked down on Louis. "Last month was two years since I moved to London and what do I have to show for it? Nothing's happened."

Louis could produce a long list of things, festival gigs, great songs on his demo, awesome friends if he did say so himself, but he knew from personal experience how those would pale, at least in the moment, in comparison to being signed. There had to be somewhere between getting signed and nothing. "You have a life to show for it, friends, a job. You hadn't told me, but had you told the store or the coffee shop or anything?" It was one thing if Liam had kept it a secret from everyone. If someone else had known first, that would have been a low blow.

Liam laughed too hard, a loud noise that filled up the interior of the van. "Nope. Hadn't even thought about it. I was just so…" Overwhelmed, Louis guessed. It was strange for Liam to not think ahead, not play out all the options in his head, so it really must have been an impulse decision. "Fuck, Harry's going to kill me, but I guess taking my hours and doubling his paycheck will make it easier. And hey, maybe the music store would hire you back to take my place. See, better for everyone."

Louis punched Liam in the arm, holding himself up so he crumpled back to the floor. "Jesus Christ, haven't you caught on that I'm not going to let you do it? Fuck everyone else, we wouldn't be better off, alright? You think you'd be better off without me holding you back?"

Liam stopped rubbing his arm where Louis had hit him and reached out for Louis' hand in the dark. He could barely make out the glint of Liam's eyes staring at him. "No, Lou, never. I'm sorry. No -"

"You don't even know…" Louis trailed off and pulled his hand back from Liam, keeping it tight against his chest. "After we met, but before I moved in with you. I'd just lost my job," there was no need to add the again, "and Zayn and I were trying to figure out what of our gear we could sell to make rent. Would've meant cancelling a gig, but we had no choice."

Liam inched over so he could hear Louis. It was the first time Louis had ever told anyone. "Went to the bus station first thing in the morning and waited for them to open up. Tried to buy a ticket and they declined my card. I didn't have the thirty fucking quid to get home. Thought about calling my mum for the money, but out of minutes too, obviously."

Louis had always been out of minutes when they met. Liam never heard from him, except they both went to the same open mic night every week, and eventually Liam was showing up at Zayn's place to hang out. That was why, a month later, Liam was there to offer him a place when Zayn kicked him out for the last time. Louis had understood, it was for the sake of the band before they killed each other, except Louis had already worn out his welcome on other people's couches by that point and would have had nowhere to go without Liam.

"So no money and no ticket. No food either, but you let me eat your chips at the pub that night. And then got me a job at the music store and we came up with the rent for another month. Not exactly happily ever after, I'll give you that." Louis had sworn up and down that no one would ever know how close he came to giving up, but it was easier to tell Liam in the dark in the middle of nowhere, like it wasn't quite real. "You coulda talked to me."

"I know. It's why I didn't come home right away, you know? Because I knew I'd tell you and then you'd try and talk me out of it. Or yell at me."

Louis laughed because Liam had been right, just hadn't realized the lengths Louis would go to in order to talk Liam out of it. Liam made a little wounded noise at being laughed at so Louis punched him in the gut to turn the noise into a groan. Liam tried to retaliate with a headlock, but a well-timed nipple twist and Louis was free and sitting up.

Liam shuffled to sitting up on the opposite side of the van, tapping his fingers on the floor of the van loudly to cover up the sound of his stomach growling. "OK, fine, if we don't have to worry about things like being robbed, what about things like fairies or something playing tricks and getting us all turned around?" Liam peeked out the window as if on the lookout for one.

Louis understood needing to change the subject and keep them distracted from their hunger, but this was a bit much. "How old are you again?"

"Clearly younger than you, old man." Liam kicked his legs out in front of him, putting them practically in Louis' lap. "No imagination left."

"Imagination? You trying to say you're more creative than me or something?" Louis spread his legs out too, tangling them with Liam's across the van. "Why don't you put that creativity to work writing a song?"

"I write songs, more than you," Liam whined in mock offense. It wasn't true, strictly speaking. The difference was Liam shared his songs, even sometimes tried to sell them. Louis kept most of his his hidden away, never satisfied that they said what he was trying to express how he wanted. 

"Oh really?" Louis dared. He'd had his share of Liam being right for one day, so he was going to prove he did too write songs. Reaching for the backpack he grabbed last minute, Louis got his lyrics notebook and flipped through the pages for one Liam didn't know about. He had to use his mobile as a torch, but it was adequate to find what he was looking for. While he was looking, he gestured for Liam to get his guitar out and grabbed it from him as soon as it was out of the case.

Louis was more awkward with a guitar than keys, but it was better than singing acapella. It took him a second to get situated, fingers trying to remember chords, phone balanced against his leg for light. It kept slipping until Liam moved closer to hold it above the notebook for him. Louis almost bailed out of the idea altogether, until Liam nodded encouragingly at him.

His first instinct was to sing softly, but he knew his voice was stronger when he put more power behind it. Louis made it through the second verse before petering off, shrugging like that was sufficient to prove his point. That and he hadn't figured out the bridge yet. The phone's glowing screen illuminated Liam's face and giant smile after Louis had finished. It was unnervingly quiet, no car passing by to interrupt Louis' song and neither of them knowing what to say.

Liam reached for his guitar back and, after a careful nod from Louis, turned the notebook to face him. He fiddled through the opening chords to get a feel for it and then began again, playing at the tempo Louis had set before. The difference was he changed the last chord in the progression to a minor and at the end of the verse, then fingerpicked a new countermelody. Louis bobbed his head along, humming his original melody over the new additions, marveling at how quickly Liam zeroed in on what needed changing.

Liam sang the chorus the second time around and it was so strange for Louis to hear his words sung back at him. Liam kicked at Louis to sing with him, which he did, finally hearing the harmonies aloud that had only existed in his head up to now. Liam repeated the chorus once more so they wouldn't have to stop quite yet. Cracking the bridge would have to wait for another day, but when Liam played the last note, Louis couldn't help letting out a giggle, intoxicated by their creation.

"You've got any more like that hiding in your notebook?" Liam joked. "That could be on the radio tomorrow and instead, you've been holding out on me."

Louis hesitated for a second before handing the whole notebook over to Liam, forcing himself not to be afraid. "There's lots in there, just don't know what to do with most of them." Liam's eyes lit up on one page as he flipped through, a few unconnected couplets that Louis wasn't sure even belonged together. 

"Have you got a pen, pencil, whatever?" Liam asked in a hurry before looking up. "Uh, if that's okay?"

Louis handed a pencil over with a nod. It was the scariest thing Louis had ever done, handing over something he'd held so secret, but with Liam, it was different. He wasn't laughing or crossing things out, he was adding to it, running to new places with it. Louis laid on his belly closer to Liam so he could hold the light up and read as Liam wrote.

Liam kept looking for Louis' approval with each change, but it was easy to give, every word he wrote down brilliant to Louis, imagery coming alive. The slightest bit of praise from Louis and Liam would break out in a smile that took up his whole face. The energy flowed between them as lyrics turned to chord progressions and a song was coming to life between the two of them. If the small improvements to the first song had felt intoxicating, creating something entirely new together was a drug Louis had never experienced anything like, his heart floating out of his chest.

It was well after midnight now, their tiredness and hunger forgotten, riding high on something bigger. Louis didn't want to use the word romantic, but it was, in the big sense of the word, bursting with emotions and feeling more connected to someone than he had in a long time. More than once, Louis looked away from the notebook to see Liam staring at him, which wasn't that weird in general considering Louis tended to be the loudest person in a room, demanding all of the attention. But Liam's looks were normally amused or doubtful or worried. There was something peculiar about the way he stared at Louis tonight, but he didn't know what it was. It was possible it was the same look of wonder on his own face mirrored back at him. He'd known from the beginning that Liam was special, incredibly talented, and the best kind of mate, but how had this amazing person been sleeping in the same bed as him for over a year and he'd never noticed, not like this?

They were huddled together around the notebook, more and more of Liam's handwriting joining Louis', but also new notes from Louis jotted alongside when something Liam added untangled whatever had Louis stumped before. One song, really a song and a half, for one night was plenty, so much more than they came with, but once primed, ideas kept rolling out, seeds to use for later. When Liam added a line to one of Louis' favorites, finally getting it to sound how Louis always wanted, Louis took Liam's face in his hands to place a large smack on Liam's cheek. The problem was, Liam turned toward Louis at the same time and Louis had only a second to divert, landing on the corner of Liam's mouth.

They laughed it off and went back to work, Louis leaning heavier on Liam's shoulder now, dizzy and a little breathless. It could have been starvation or exhaustion taking over, but it began at the exact moment his lips had landed on Liam's. More confusing was the part of him that seemed upset that he had diverted at all, rather than going through with the kiss. Louis was talking less and less as he fixated on the idea, trying to figure out where an impulse like that came from after knowing someone that long. He didn't notice Liam quieting as well, until he felt the heavy weight of Liam's head resting back against his.

"Alright, Payno, think that means we're finally out of fuel too," Louis said as he lifted Liam off of him. The sun was already creeping up and he no longer needed the screen glow to see Liam, eyes drifting shut even as Louis wrestled the guitar from him to rest on the front seat. Liam listed from side to side without Louis supporting him, so Louis settled back next to him, lying them down and pulling Liam into a cuddle.

It started as a joke, ruffling Liam's hair, planning to tuck him into bed, but Liam fell asleep still on Louis' chest. Louis could have tried rolling him off, except Liam likely as not would brain himself on the floor and besides, it would have required moving, which Louis felt quite done with for the day. And their pillows and blankets did go a lot further when they were close together.

Louis shifted slightly to get one of those pillows under his head and tugged on Liam until he was in a spot that would hopefully let Louis fall asleep before his arm went dead. In the breaking light, quiet except for Liam's heavy breathing, Louis whispered what he was thinking, feeling safe and warm as he came down from the creative wave they had been riding. "I wouldn't want to do this with anyone else."

It felt like a confession, but Louis wasn't sure to what and he was certain Liam hadn't heard him until Liam nuzzled closer. "Me either, Lou, best thing in my life."

\-------

Liam, or maybe Louis before he’d given up on directions and opted for sitting in silence, had somehow managed to loop them back around to the motorway and Liam let out a sigh of relief. He’d been driving through small towns for almost an hour, winding roads that he had to go slower to navigate. They’d even had to stop once for a couple of cows to pass, something Liam had hoped Louis would laugh at with him, but Louis had just rolled his eyes, and gone back to looking out the window. The sign of the motorway was like civilization waiting. Maybe he’d take them back south again, back to London. The idea of kidnapping Louis was a bit mental, thinking they could sort out years of silence that had started with hurt-fueled shouting. 

Walking out on Louis had been the hardest thing Liam had ever done. It came at the happiest point in their lives, three days after getting drunk on cheap supermarket champagne. Louis had a label, one that was tossing him and his band on a tour immediately to get their name out there with studio time booked the moment he got home, and Liam had a contract that brought him into the studio for an album, with a press junket and possibly opening act gigs following it. They’d celebrated like idiots at the pub they did open mic at with Louis’ band and Liam’s work friends, then came home to the tiny bedsit to celebrate more. Louis had turned on Liam’s demo, singing the words to the song that had gotten him the deal, something they’d written together, all the while dancing on the bed in just his boxers. 

Liam remembered being so overwhelmed with being in love that it hurt. 

He’d almost said it that night, tongue loose from beers and bubbly drinks, but Louis had dropped his arms around Liam’s neck, singing one of the more suggestive lines right in Liam’s face and managed to distract Liam from saying it. He’d spent the rest of the night twisted up in Louis, drunkenly dancing and singing no matter how hard the neighbors had banged on the walls. There hadn’t been a moment when Louis hadn’t been touching Liam and it made the distance between them in the car feel like miles, like he might never get to be close to his former friend again. The closeness made the angry words they’d yelled at each other cut deeper, because Liam hadn’t been sure about anything with Louis until he’d ripped away the good and was left with the searing pain that confirmed that everything he’d felt had been real. That Liam had assumed for a second he could fix something they’d ruined so completely with a car journey and a conversation had been more naive than. 

“Oi.” Louis smacked him hard on the arm, pulling Liam out of his thoughts and mindless driving. “Stop over there.” He leaned forward to catch the sign of the pub just short of the motorway sliproad. 

“Why?” 

Louis looked at Liam like he’d grown a second head. “Because it’s late.” He pointed to the clock on the dash. “And I wanna get out of the fucking car. Don’t you want a break?” 

Liam shifted in his seat, frowning at the numbness in his ass. “Yeah, I guess so.” 

“Then come on, pull off.” 

While Liam hated to let Louis outside of the bubble of the car, worried that a stop off somewhere would mean Louis calling Zayn to come claim him, his stomach was growling and stopping seemed like the best idea. He pulled the car off the road as directed, parking in the small carpark, but before he could say anything, Louis was out of the car and headed towards the pub. He didn’t have his phone out yet, which meant that Liam might make it another few hours before an angry Zayn showed up to call a stop to the whole trip and glared at Liam with nothing but disappointment. 

Liam had seen that look before; it wasn’t fun. 

He grabbed his phone out of the back where Louis had thrown it, then headed inside after him. Liam realized that neither he or Louis were the usual clientele for the small place, mostly full of older couples obviously on holiday in spring pastels. He had a feeling his dark clothes and tattoos made him stick out like a sore thumb. The landlord gave him a once over then nodded towards a tiny booth that Louis was already in, sitting on his feet to look taller and pouring over a menu. Liam smiled in thanks, then took his spot across from Louis, surprised at how intense it was to be this close and not have much else to look at beyond Louis. 

He was all sharp lines and cheekbones, which he'd always been, but the last of the baby fat had fallen away and, for once, he didn't look childish. There was a tattoo on his chest, peeking out as the too big t-shirt he had on dipped below his collarbones. Liam found himself desperate to know what other marks had been added to his skin. 

"M'starved," Louis mumbled, turning the menu over and pulling Liam away from staring at him. 

"Yeah," he agreed, but his eyes went wide when the landlord came over to the table with two pints and four shots. "Thought you were hungry." 

Louis smiled at the landlord, who shook his head and left, then pushed one of the pints and two of the shots at Liam. “I am, but we can start here.” He kicked back one of his shots and Liam didn’t even bother to hide the way he watched the column of his neck move when he swallowed. Liam had no doubt that Louis was doing it on purpose. He chased the shot with a sip of his beer, nudging one of the glasses in front of Liam closer to his hand. “Come on, pop star.” 

“I’m driving, Lou.” 

“Yeah, in like an hour after we eat. What, are you getting old? Can’t handle it anymore?” Louis pouted at him, then sighed. “Shame that. The kiddos won’t like you when you get old. Be one of them washed up one hit wonders. Tragic.” 

“I’ve got more than one hit, thank you very much.” Liam picked up the shot, but didn’t take it. He still wasn’t entirely sure about the whole thing. 

“Damn right you do. I still get a royalty check for at least three of ‘em,” Louis huffed, clearly annoyed with Liam again. The look of disgust on his face was enough for Liam to down the shot without even thinking about it. He coughed when it burned on its way down, blinking away tears and shaking his head. 

“That’s disgusting.” 

“No one drinks shots because they taste good,” Louis pointed out, before tipping back his second and flipping the glass upside down on the table then waving at the landlord, signalling for more, already getting up to claim them from the bartop. 

Liam winced his way through the second one then shook his head. “No more, Lou. Come on, we gotta drive.” 

“I know you learned a thing or two about tolerance at those posh bloody parties you’re always being photographed at,” Louis countered. “Plus, there’s a _B &B_ attached. If you can’t handle it, you can sleep in a cozy little place tonight and wake up feeling refreshed and go back to being old and boring. Jesus, they’re gonna drop you from the charts before you’re twenty-five at this rate. Bet you’ll get fat and wallow afterwards.” 

That was unfairly low and judging by the twitch at the corner of Louis’ mouth he knew it and he’d seen those tweets and pap shots too. Liam had been misguided thinking they could get back to normal, hadn’t he? 

“Lou,” Liam tried again, but was met with a stern, sharp look he’d learned years ago to give into and not try and fight. Louis was possibly the most stubborn human being that existed and that included pushy record execs, radio personalities, and Harry Styles. Apparently even insults slung casually across the table couldn’t keep Liam from just following Louis into anything. “Fine, fine. At least order some food, yeah?” 

Louis grinned manically then nodded, hopping off to the bar to get another round. 

\-----------

Louis woke up alone, groaning at the ache in his back from the unforgiving floor and the sun shining directly in his eyes. He wondered if last night had been a dream, but the new writing in his notebook confirmed that most of it was indeed real. Probably even the part where he almost kissed his best mate. Fuck, and he was back to calling him his best mate. Any attempt to do otherwise was nothing but kidding himself.

Best mate or not, Louis couldn't figure out why the kiss was the main thing he remembered from the night, even before their new songs. He and Liam had kissed before, silly pecks when one of their clubs scored or exuberant congratulations when Louis got another new job. They had slept next to each other in a cuddle before, when the radiator failed in the winter or when one of them had a rough let down. Nothing was new, but Louis hadn't thought about Liam in any way but as a friend since the night they met. It was impossible not to notice Liam was fit as fuck, but Louis had been with someone when they met and by the time that relationship ended, as casual as it had been, Liam was firmly lodged into his friend group in a way that made it impossible to see him as anything but _Liam_.

Maybe the idea Liam could be taken away from him set off a new reaction in Louis, one that left him missing the weight of Liam on his chest in spite of the heat. Louis looked around for Liam with a measured amount of panic, but then saw the back of his head leaning on the window, curls smushed against the glass. At least he hadn't attempted to hitch back to London while Louis slept through the morning. Louis shook his head clear, refocusing his attention on tasks like reminding Liam what a terrible idea quitting was and getting petrol in the van. Exploring the idea of kissing Liam again, properly this time, would have to wait until more important things were complete, like Liam ripping that ticket into a million pieces in front of Louis.

Louis scooted to the door and slid it open, knocking Liam off where he had been leaning. Louis just caught it from the corner of his eye as Liam quickly dropped a lit cigarette from his hand. Liam always tried to hide his habit, saying it was an irresponsible waste of funds, but you could only hide so much in less than three hundred square feet. Before Liam could stomp it out, Louis scooped it up off the ground. "Oi, waste not want not." He dusted it off, and grimaced a little, but the fact was it was less than halfway gone. "Light?"

Liam took out another and lit it, swapping with Louis and throwing the dropped one away. "Sorry, it was helping with the -- " Liam's stomach finished the sentence for him.

"Yeah, me too, starved." Louis turned to look at his hair in the window's reflection, trying to get it to lay down. He'd need a beanie to hide the mess and hoped he'd remembered to throw one in. Louis turned to look at Liam, staring out across the fields in the late morning light. He didn't even look that worse the wear for the night. Sure, his curls were a little matted, but they still caught the sun and lit up a dozen shades of brown and gold. Combined with his long lashes protecting his eyes from the breeze that made the growing heat almost bearable, he looked like perfect pop star material if there ever was such a thing. Louis' phone was near dead from their using it as a torch, yet he snuck a picture in anyway.

"Really, Lou, I'm a mess," Liam complained as he pushed Louis' phone down, but the damage was done.

He would've told Liam nothing could be further from the truth, but it was already unfair for someone to be that beautiful; he didn't need to know it too. "Making memories, like? Need something to remember this ugly mug." He reached out to toy with one of the strands on Liam's forehead to soften the insult, except it all got too real as soon as he touched Liam. He pulled back sharply and flicked the cigarette away. "Come on, off with us. Sooner we get this over with, sooner we can get -- " Were they still going to Doncaster, to Yarmouth, back home? Louis wasn't sure he had done enough to make Liam understand London was home, with him. "Wherever it is we're going."

It was a bit unnerving to leave all of their belongings in the ineffectively locked van on the side of the road, but there was no way to carry it all, so Louis had to settle for carrying the backpack with the most important things like the notebook and envelope of birthday cash. There was a rusted tool box stashed under the driver's seat that had come with the car and helped make up for how the seat had fallen in some time ago and, alongside it, a stained plastic one litre petrol can.

Liam quite literally patted Louis on the back for the fiver saved, as if he had been responsible for the preparedness himself and not simply too lazy to clean out the van in the few years it had been in his possession.

Louis headed off down the road, turning around to walk backwards after a few steps. A week ago, he wouldn't have ever entertained the idea that Liam might not follow, but he couldn't be too careful. It was bad enough being careful, he couldn't let the responsible comment stand. “Don't say that. It’s hardly responsible to not clean a mess. There’s zero fun in that.” He shifted the bag on his back, sticking to him almost immediately with sweat from wearing it, and then gestured for Liam to take it instead. He was carrying the petrol container, that was plenty.

Liam took it without complaint, something Louis could at least rely on, and hung it off one arm. “Not really. I mean, there’s some fun in being responsible.” 

“Really?” Louis said, walking a step behind Liam so he could dig around the bag and hopefully find his beanie before anyone othern than Liam saw his hair standing up all angles. Louis zipped it back up once he found it and gave it a sharp tug for good measure, sending Liam stumbling a step. Liam laughed in response. “How?” 

“Less walking to petrol stations,” Liam answered with a smug expression he couldn't hold for long. 

Louis crossed his arms and countered, “Walking’s good for you.” It took a strange turn of conversation for Louis to be the one advocating exercise. 

“You say that now…”

Even though it was only took an hour at most, the walk felt like it went on and on and the signs never got any closer. It was possible his whinging didn't help, but there was only so much to do and talk about with so many topics still sensitive between them. Louis did like that all the complaining led to Liam more than once threatening that he’d just toss Louis over his shoulder and carry him the rest of the way.

By the time they were close, Louis' stomach was protesting and he was sure the end was nigh, that he should have made Liam carry him so he might survive. Complaining had morphed into wordless whining. The heat and activity had dissolved his brain.

"I don't know why you're the one complaining so much when it's your fault in the first place for not stopping earlier," Liam finally snapped. He ducked his head in apology immediately after saying it, but Louis caught the short tone, how Liam sounded before he actually did run out of patience and Louis couldn't afford that right now. Even if it was true, it gave Louis a bit of a chip on his shoulder and it was probably for the best they have a minute apart.

As they approached the pumps, Louis swapped the empty can for the backpack. If the tasks were to be split between them, Liam could not be trusted with obtaining rations from the convenience store. He was likely to make a frugal decision, like get a banana and a generic lucozade to split or, worse, produce something _healthy_.

Standing in line to pay for their sausage rolls, and an oversized bag of Haribo as a reward for the funds he saved by finding the can, he looked at the picture he'd taken of Liam before, considering setting it as his lock screen. So much for even a minute apart.

An older woman stood behind him in the queue and peeked over his shoulder. "Your boyfriend's quite handsome. What's his name?"

"Um, that's Liam." Perhaps he should have corrected her, but then it was his turn to pay and then off to the condiment stand for some napkins, the random moment having passed. It was just a one-off comment from a stranger, but was there something new in how he looked at Liam, something evident to a total stranger? He looked at his phone again, this time with brows scrunched in a decidedly not boyfriend-looking manner, as he waited for a truck to pass before he could cross the lot again. He didn't notice his former queue mate sneaking up beside him again.

"Oh, there he is," she chirped, pointing helpfully right at Liam. Liam stood at the pump, ever so slowly and carefully trickling petrol into the small can, and Louis' face unconsciously relaxed into a smile at how seriously Liam took his task. "Handy, your Liam?"

Louis answered without thinking, blaming his hunger for how easily he had slipped into another daze like that, looking at Liam. "Ran out of petrol a ways down the road so he's taking care of it. Put me on snacks," he said, waving his pasties demonstratively. He rocked uncomfortably on his toes as they waited. "Think he might be a bit upset with me still as I was the one not paying attention to the gauge."

"You poor dears, you had to walk? That's terrible." She settled a caring hand on his elbow, leaving it there for Louis to help her down the kerb and across the lot. "Let us give you a ride back."

Liam finished capping the petrol can before Louis had reached him so Liam instead skipped up to them across the last parking spaces. "Hey, Lou, ready to walk back to the van?" The woman coughed pointedly until Liam turned to her. "Sorry, didn't realize Louis had made such a lovely friend. Mrs..?"

"Mrs. Price, dear, but like you said, we're friends, so you should call me Nora." She lifted her hand off Louis' arm to grasp Liam's offered hand in that awkward not-handshake nans have. If Liam hadn't charmed her just from Louis' mobile phone picture, the job was certainly done with that crinkly-eyed smile that came so naturally to him. Pop star material indeed. "And friends couldn't possibly let friends walk all that way back. My Mick should be pulling round with the car any minute now. We'll drive you back."

Louis could see it in Liam's nervous expression and darting eyes that he would refuse, insist that they couldn't possibly accept followed by an hour long lecture directed at Louis on the walk home about talking to strangers, so Louis did the logical thing and shoved a sausage roll in Liam's mouth. It worked as planned.

"That is so kind, with the day heating up. Can't tell you how much we appreciate it, love." Louis could lay the charm on thick too, as long as he knew when to stop talking. With a mouthful of sausage and a stomach that growled again, all Liam could do was glare half heartedly.

Right on cue, an older gentleman with a Leeds United air freshener hanging from the mirror pulled up in an old Renault and rolled down the window with an exaggerated sigh. "Have you picked up strays or something?"

"Ah, they only need a short ride, it's no skin off your nose. They've made the walk once already." There was a silent discussion, back and forth as long-married couples did, that ended with another exaggerated sigh and Mr. Price asking which direction to head.

It took only a few words of directions and Liam and Louis scooting in along the back bench until they were headed back to the motorway. Louis had flashbacks to adolescent dates as he sat in the backseat with Liam, nervously tapping his leg off beat with the oldies station playing. Mrs. Price kept a steady flow of conversation over the murmur of the radio, but most of the words were drowned out before reaching them, leaving them to politely nod and mumble responses. Louis was afraid of being caught out in his boyfriend lie, the one he hadn't even told, and Liam seemed afraid that the stain at the top of the container was actually a crack, that if he didn't keep perfect balance, he might spill petrol all over the interior of a stranger's car.

What had taken an hour's walk earlier was barely minutes in the car, their stranded van an obvious marker on the side of the road. Mr. Price nodded his head congenially enough as Louis and Liam made their way out of the car, but Mrs. Price insisted on getting out of the car to say goodbye. She pulled Louis down into an awkward hug and then turned to Liam.

"Thank you again, Mrs. Price," Liam said, correcting himself after receiving a stern look, "Thank you again, _Nora_." She pulled him down into a hug as well but then took one of his hands in both of hers. Louis almost bit straight through his tongue waiting to see what she was about to say.

"You two are good together. Don't let anything get in the way of that and you'll be fine." Another sigh came from the Renault and so she got back in the car with one more little wave at them before driving off.

Liam's eyebrows had drawn together as she spoke her piece and he turned to Louis with head tilted. "Bit funny a thing to say, did you tell her we were writing together?"

Louis let go of his tongue and the breath he was holding along with it, thankful for Liam's sweet cluelessness coming to his rescue for once.

"Yeah, the queue was ages long in the shop, loads of time to talk." Louis dropped the bag against the back bumper and grabbed the petrol can from Liam, so as to make himself too busy to answer any further questions. Liam nodded, confused but apparently accepting Louis' answer well enough to get back in the passenger seat.

It felt like barely more than a drop of fuel as Louis emptied the can yet it was sufficient to get the engine to turn over when Louis got back in the driver's side. He dutifully pulled off at the next sliproad, even kept his speed down so as to make it all the way to the pump in the vehicle this time. He didn't even make a comment about how he was almost positive heading north for fuel that morning would have been a shorter walk.

Once parked next to the pump, Louis counted out the money from his stash and winced. The van's tank wasn't small, but it was going to take more than one stop to make it to Doncaster and back so they might as well fill up in the middle of nowhere.

It wasn't until after he finished that thought that Louis realized he had decided on their destination. He hadn't considered it seriously before, he'd just been shouting angry things, but maybe it was what they were meant to do. The idea made his stomach flip, returning to where he had left, to where he had so nearly retreated to. But it was like a pilgrimage, too, to show Liam how far they had come and that it wasn't time to truly go home yet. He wrote the funny stomach feeling off to the fact that one sausage roll did not replace three missed meals as it reached midday.

"Here," he shoved some bills into Liam's hand, "fill it up. I'm going to get more food." He was off and crossing the street to the Burger King before Liam could argue about the money. Two greasy bags worth of chicken and fries and fry-shaped chicken was worth the ten pounds. It was fuel for them as sure as the petrol was for the van.

Louis made it back without any tag alongs this time, but it was his turn to tilt his head in confusion, finding Liam with the bonnet propped up and his head stuck under it. "What's this?"

"Shouldn't have taken the van this far," Liam replied gravely.

"D'you even know what you're looking at?" What would Mrs. Price think of Louis' handy _boyfriend_ now? Damnit, the word kept popping into his head now.

Liam bit his lip as he dropped the bonnet back down with a clang. "No, but I mean --" He waved his hand at the car again like there was an actual danger sign pinned to the front of it.

"Neither of us would know how to fix it, even if it was broken, so best to go on as we started. You're driving." Louis shoved the keys in Liam's hand and a chicken fry in his agape mouth.

"D'you even know where we're heading?" Liam asked as he pulled the driver's side door open.

"North is all you need to know." Maybe if Louis could face his fears, in front of Liam, with Liam, that would give Liam the courage to stay. Louis wanted Liam to have the courage to do anything.

\---------

“It’s crazy really. She’s got back up dancers and pyrotechnics and all this stuff going on. Like her performance at what…” 

“The VMAs,” Louis supplied, sipping at his beer. 

“Right that. But bigger.” Liam waved his hands to show, smirking as Louis laughed at him. There was a strong chance he was drunk, though the fact that empty glasses on the table out-numbered plates and there were at least four plates for two people probably had something to do with it. Louis had slowed drinking once there was food, but it didn’t stop them from kicking back pints and a few more shots. There was no amount of chips either of them could eat at this point that would soak up the alcohol they’d drunk, and Liam was continuing to regret the poor excuse for a salad he’d ordered. “I felt like an idiot out there half the time. Everything was so big and it was just me. I’ve not got back up dancers.” 

“‘Cause you don’t need ‘um. Plus what are they going to back up? Your dancing is a lost cause,” Louis’ words were slightly slurred, but the smile that came with the tease wasn’t nearly as cruel as it had been earlier. 

Liam groaned softly, covering his face. “Don’t start that again.” 

Louis laughed, propping his chin up on one hand, reaching for another chip off Liam’s plate. “Haven’t the foggiest what you mean Liam, dear.” 

“Liar.” Liam peeked out from behind his fingers knowing full well he was too drunk to deal with Louis looking like he did, flush on his high cheekbones from the booze, smile that reminded Liam so much of _then_ instead of now. 

“Because I was being nice when I said your dance moves were unique,” Louis continued with mock innocence. 

“And you were completely full of shit when you said it.” Liam wasn’t drunk enough to let that slide. 

“Well, you’re the one who went and got all sincere and nice when they asked you about it,” Louis said rolling his eyes, hand moving to cover his mouth so Liam couldn’t see if he was smiling or not. They’d done a good job of avoiding each other in person over the years, but when one magazine pitted them against each other for best new artist of the year and they volleyed twitter half-insults at each other, there was no avoiding it. The interview was awkward for Liam, not quite able to see Louis on the other side of the interviewer, which meant he couldn’t really gauge the sarcastic compliment he’d given to Liam. When asked what he thought made Louis a contender, Liam had been honest, stating how much he liked Louis’s voice because it a tone all his own that no one else could recreate. 

 

Liam shrugged a little. “Can’t pretend it’s not true.” 

Louis’ eyes narrowed at him, before he turned away, waving down a waitress and ordering more shots. “For dessert,” he told her with a wink. She bought it, much like everyone always had and everyone still seemed to if the pap shots were anything to be believed. Louis fueled entire gossip rags with the way he dated or was seen with whoever he wanted, actors, footballers, other musicians, guys and girls alike. Somehow he’d managed not to be labeled by any of it. “Always charming, aren’t you?” Liam blurted before he could stop himself. 

“Not all of us are mistaken for Beckham, Payno,” Louis said, shaking his head and tipping back the rest of his beer. “Gotta have something to make up for that.” 

“You saw that?” 

“The whole country saw that. But yeah. Harry texted me. Thought it was funniest damn thing ever. Though let’s be honest, if Becks wasn’t married to Posh, Harry would have thought he was you, too. He was so damn proud he’d met a footballer too and was so ready for me to see it.” 

“And they’d just thought he was with me.” 

“Which is like every other Tuesday.” 

“Because he’s with you the other Tuesdays.” 

Louis shrugged. “Pretty much.” Harry had always been shared custody, the one person that bridged the Louis and Liam gap without an executive or lawyer title. He was friends with both of them before, and he stayed that way after. He’d sat in the studio while Liam recorded his last album for three days, then followed it up by being side stage at Louis’ next three shows. Liam never brought Louis up to Harry, but apparently Liam wasn’t a forbidden topic between Harry and Louis. Liam wondered if Harry would tell him what Louis and he talked about if Liam asked. “Must be hard to be so pretty.” Louis toed at Liam’s shin under the table. 

Liam scoffed lightly shaking his head. “Like you’ve got room to talk. Didn’t one of them websites vote you ‘Prettiest Bad Boy’ or summat?” 

“Best Next Mistake,” Louis corrected. “I am a Taylor Swift song.” The waitress came back with his shots and set them down in front of him with a cheeky smile. 

Liam frowned when one of the two wasn’t slid across the table to him. “But not really though, right?” 

Louis kicked back the first shot, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. “Not really what?” 

“You aren’t… really the song?” 

The grin that spread across Louis’ features was downright wicked. “Who knows,” he said with a wink. “Wouldn’t be the first person to write a song about me.” 

Liam was glad he was drunk because that face and that comment might have hurt a lot more if he wasn’t feeling numb all over. “Whatever.” He didn’t talk about it to anyone, but there were definitely two albums, with a third in work, full of music Liam had written about Louis. Even the songs he didn’t write had a similar tone, about heartache or being a sucker for a single person. It was just what he seemed to be drawn to. He wanted to point out that there was no way some of those songs that Louis had put out weren’t about him, but he didn’t. Liam couldn’t be sure and bringing it up only to be told he was wrong didn’t seemed like a recipe for something that would puncture through the numb. 

Louis took the second shot, then leaned back into the booth, half laughing to himself. “Don’t make that face. It’s not like your life is suddenly difficult. Saw you on T.V. just last month singing with Robbie. You’ve been dreaming about that for years. Something about those songs works.” 

Liam couldn’t help but smile a touch, not at the somewhat compliment, but the memory. He’d been thrilled, posting selfies and then the professional shots from the performance, not sure his life was real if it had come to singing with one of his favorites. “True. Great time.” 

“Yeah,” Louis echoed. “Had fun when I did it, too.” 

“What?” Liam’s eyebrows drew together in confusion. “Don’t remember seeing that.” He definitely would have noticed that. 

Louis chuckled, tilting the shot glass on one side, balancing it with one finger. “Let’s say it was more of a private performance.” 

It took Liam a moment, but once it registered, he sat back in the booth staring at the man in front of him, not at all sure if he believed him. It wasn’t like Louis had been as restrained with his choice in bedmates as Liam had been, but it was hard to tell if Louis was being serious now or not. Either way, Liam needed another drink and signaled the waitress for another as he finished off his current pint. He didn’t want to see the bill at this point. Of course, it wasn’t like he couldn’t afford it, especially considering the price tag on his last watch, but old habits died hard. It was even harder to not constantly watch Louis for overspending. “Good for you,” he said, feeling like Louis was waiting for him to fill the silence. 

“You would have done the same thing, given the chance.” Louis wasn’t looking at him when he said it though, which made Liam think that Louis didn’t truly believe that. 

The thing was, Liam wouldn’t have. There’d been sparks there, sure, but Liam was shit at anyone that wasn’t Louis and even Louis he’d been pretty terrible at. There’d been a girlfriend, someone the studio had set him up at the end of a string of girls they’d paraded in front of him, and he ended it after a month. She was a beautiful, lovely person, and it was all the more reason why he couldn’t be that guy that was with someone he didn’t have feelings for. After that, there hadn’t been anyone else, present company excluded. 

“Talked about it too much back then?” Liam said instead of agreeing, feeling a surge of triumph when Louis looked up at him, eyes drunk but wide. Those few months were strictly off limits in Liam’s world, only a few people knowing what all the old pictures of them together meant. There was a reason Liam hadn’t deleted them off his Instagram though. 

“Maybe a little,” Louis admitted. “Always was a bit jealous.” 

“Didn’t have a reason to be.” Liam leaned forward, elbows on the table as his next drink arrived. He took a hefty swig out of it without looking up, though he could feel Louis’ eyes on him. “Only had eyes for one person.” 

Louis shifted in his seat and bit at his lip before reaching out to take Liam’s drink from him, holding it in both hands. “I did wonder what was wrong with you back then,” he murmured, barely loud enough for Liam to hear. 

“I could make a list, but it’s only got one thing on it. Starts with an L.” Liam really was drunk or he never would have said those words out loud. Louis was just as surprised, judging by the way he tipped back the rest of Liam’s pint in one go. 

“Look anything like that ‘LT’ spotify playlist? Maybe should have made that one private,” Louis demanded, obviously going for a jab, but something in the way his blue eyes didn’t spark meant the comment missed the mark. 

“Saw that, did you?” Liam asked, feeling sheepish. He hadn’t even realized he’d done it until the next morning when he got alerts that people had followed it. By then he couldn’t take it down without causing more suspicion. 

“It’s got my initials on it and songs we wrote in it. Songs I wrote in it,” Louis explained, looking at the bottom of the empty glass. “Someone was going to point it out to me. Tucked there right between your going out mix and your gym mix, our entire history.” Louis pushed the glass across the table, seeming not to notice the way it toppled over and rolled into a plate. 

Liam knew that voice though, drunk and sad, frustrated with Liam. He’d heard it before. They swore they never talked beyond twitter back and forths and the occasional forced meeting, but that wasn’t entirely honest. Once Liam’s phone had rung in the middle of the night, Louis’ face flashing across the screen. He’d picked it up immediately and got the voice that was speaking now. He’d drunkenly chastised Liam for not changing his number, then slurred through a ramble out how everything was Liam’s fault. The only reason it had stopped was Zayn cutting in, taking the phone and telling Liam that Louis was fine and hanging up. It hadn’t happened since, but that was probably on Zayn rather than Louis. 

“Are we done with this nonsense yet?” Louis demanded, pushing at the shot glass as well, but it didn’t tip over. “You brought me out here. We’ve walked down memory lane, we’ve swapped stories, you’re a big deal pop star and I’m a proper rockstar. Can we just call it even?” 

“That’s not what the point of this was,” Liam insisted, leaning on the table again, fighting the urge to reach for Louis, hold his hand, hold his arm, anything that would breach the six inches of No Man’s Land between them. 

“Then what was it? You can’t be trying to win me back; you dumped me.” 

Liam watched Louis freeze, hand hovering over the shot glass he’d been mucking with, like the words surprised him as much as they surprised Liam. They’d never called it anything. Not the entire time, not after. Songs about heartache, but not breakups. It had to be something for it to be a breakup. 

“Louis.” Liam reached this time, but Louis was quick; he’d always been quick and Liam was out of practice. He was out of the booth, pushing at anything in his way hard enough to knock plates and glasses on the floor with a crash and before Liam could even move he was gone. 

\---------------

Liam leaned over and, after two swift looks up at the empty lane ahead, tried to grab the map from Louis' hands, but Louis was too fast and swept it away, threatening to mark up Liam's arm with the ballpoint if he tried for it again.

"I bought that map. It's my map and what have you been doing to it?" 

Louis scoffed without looking up. "You bought that map with the change from what I gave you to get petrol. So, really, it's my map. Or, our map at the least."

"Well, does _our_ map have any new directions?"

"Yeah, continue heading north." There was another half hour at least until their exit, Louis reckoned. It had been a long time since Louis had been in Doncaster and quite a bit longer since he had last made the drive in this direction. To help Louis make his point, they passed under yet another sign informing they were, in fact, still headed toward The North. "We didn't need a map for this."

"Yeah, but isn't a road map a good thing to have? To keep you from getting lost?" 

"It's a terribly adult thing to have." At least it was if kept folded properly in the glove box, in case of an emergency like the sat nav going out, not that they had nor could afford one. Rather than be stuck with a boring road map, Louis had improved it. If anything, it was now a tool _for_ getting lost, marked up with destinations circled and doodles over the water. The stick man comic, drawn frame by frame along the margin didn't really have a purpose, other than Louis' amusement. The prominent skull and crossbones in the upper right, traced over in Sharpie, did. The thick lines hid the roads beneath but Louis didn't need the map there. X marked the spot. "A treasure map, though? That's for adventure."

Liam leaned over again, this time keeping both hands firmly on the steering wheel, at where Louis was tapping his pen, the largest marking easily visible from the driver's seat. "Doncaster isn't exactly an adventure."

"Will be for you." Louis hoped they weren't in for a particularly emotional show, but you never knew with him. "And there's still the way back. I'll start planning a superior route."

More miles passed under them. Louis spent the time scrawling, both on the map and in the notebook he had been using as a lap board to write on. No full songs came to him, but lines here and there inspired by buildings they passed, flashes of ideas from the night before that bothered him less if he got them out of his head and onto a page. This trip would be easier if Louis wasn't also juggling 'he loves me, he loves me not' thoughts in the back of his mind.

"The map was so we could make it back to London." Liam was quieter when there was food left.

Louis turned to look out the window rather than at Liam, hiding the sarcastic eyebrow raise he couldn't control. He wasn't trying to fight anymore, but it didn't come naturally. "Which means you're planning on going back to London, not just getting dropped home on the way back."

There was a sputter from the driver's seat, maybe a laugh, more likely trying to buy time. "I don't have any of my stuff?"

Louis countered, sharp yet not mean. "I'd mail it to you. If we go back to London, it's to stay." Direct. He needed an answer from Liam, but Liam didn't have one for him yet, apparently.

 

They spent the next ten minutes or so in silence, but for Louis tapping the windscreen with his shoe, legs propped up on the dash. Liam had asked him not to earlier, that the reflection was distracting, but now that they were this close, there was no stopping the nervous bounce. 

"Does the map tell me which exit to take to find the treasure?"

Liam had managed to get on the A630 following the signs, meaning Louis needed to figure out where they were actually going, but the directions Louis gave Liam were on a kind of autopilot. Two more turns and they were on to the roads Louis learned how to drive on. Make a right instead of a left and they could drive by his secondary school. He looked at the time on the dash clock. His mum normally took a Sunday shift while the older girls had activities and his grandparents watched the twins. It would be safe enough to sit in front of the empty house. Louis folded the map up without looking at it, against the folds, instead making new ones. Little things had changed, some shops had a new sign, some houses a different color. He hoped he'd changed more than that.

"Number 28," Louis announced as they made their last turn. Liam slowed as he reached the house in question. Quickly, Louis added, "Don't pull in the drive, just -- Back up a little and pull over." It was easier to pretend they were parked in front of a random neighbor's house. Any house in Doncaster, not the one with the twins' big wheels on the porch and the older girls' bikes against the garage door.

Liam sat quiet in Louis' peripheral vision, looking at Louis looking at the house. "We don't have to go in."

"No one's home anyway." There was a key to the front door on Louis' keychain, the one in Liam's hand as he turned the van off.

Liam forced a smile. "It's funny though, come all this way and not go home." Funny strange, not funny haha.

"Going home is something you do either after you've succeeded or after you've failed." Louis hadn't done one, but wasn't admitting to the other. His traitorous throat closed up, straining his voice. "I'm not done yet. I'm not ready to be done yet."

"I'm just saying, it'd be okay if you wanted to change your mind, about seeing them. You wouldn't be alone." Liam reached a hand over slowly, cautiously, hovering between Louis' shoulder and knee, until Louis took Liam's hand in his own to decide the matter. Now wasn't the time for vague romantic possibilities to get in the way of the comfort they'd always been able to provide each other.

Louis could imagine the scene, his mom tearing up yet acting like she wasn't crying, like the distance between them wasn't hard on her, on them both. His sisters hanging on him and yelling in his ears and asking a million questions. Louis would introduce Liam as his flatmate, let them believe he had a real city flat, but you didn't take flatmates home to meet your family. And when his sisters noticed how Louis looked at Liam, and they would notice, the secret sniffing brats, what could he say? It would take a night of piggyback rides and sneaking sweeties to just keep them from asking Liam inappropriate questions about their brother's recently acquired crush.

He would let Liam see him like that though, all soft with his family. It was something Louis wished he could share with more people, this side of himself, but it was hard enough being away from his family, he didn't need anyone to know he's homesick.

"You won't tell the others, will you? About coming here." Louis' throat had loosened some, but only because he stopped fighting the tears that had welled up. It wasn't like it was a full sob, just a handful of silent teardrops that tracked down his cheeks and dripped off his chin, each one holding a bit of his pride. Letting Liam see him like this, it had a purpose, but it wasn't easy. "I won't tell them, about the train ticket. I mean, if you go, they'll probably figure it out. But if you stay -- "

"I won't tell them. Our adventure, our secret. I won't…" Liam didn't respond to the second half and Louis felt it hang in the air, so close yet so far. Even when they got back to London, Louis didn't want their adventure to end. They could keep driving forever if that's what it took. Sitting still started to suffocate him again, but then Liam squeezed his hand. "So which of your sisters plays football?"

"None of 'em, last I knew. Lottie's at dance on Sundays and Fiz --" Louis finally looked back at the house to see what prompted the question, a football stuck under the bench his mum had set out front, a little faded and deflated. "Oh, I'm going to kill them, I bought like four when I worked at the toy store and they're leaving 'em out to rot."

The more Louis talked, the more his emotions evened out, reminiscing on the past rather than scared of the future. He told Liam about the time he fell off the side of the house, thinking that whole scurrying down the drain pipe thing would work to sneak out. He'd had to call his mom to get him from the driveway because of a twisted ankle. Then there was the party he threw when his mum wasn't home, but afterwards he posted some Myspace pictures and got caught. Not all the stories were about Louis' rebellious escapades, like he pointed out where his sister tripped on the front step and lost a tooth. He searched the flowerbed for it as she cried and while he was pretty sure what he found was a small white pebble, the tooth fairy had made good on it anyway. Louis skipped the sad ones, even when something triggered the memory, like the dent in the garage door from the last time his dad visited. This trip was sad enough. 

"You miss them," Liam said and Louis nodded. "Are you sure you don't even want to text your mum? Just for dinner?"

Dinner sounded amazing, if only because Louis was awful hungry. Who knew driving all day and spilling your guts burned so much energy? But he couldn't text her with a dead phone and his had run out of battery not long after they got going on the road that morning. Telling Liam that would lead to borrowing Liam's phone or worse, them hunting for a payphone. "Mum's not, like, the biggest cook. Wouldn't be fair to drop in like that. She'd probably have to order pizzas or something." That made Louis smile though, remembering how when his mum was wiped from a rough shift, she'd order them pizza from this specific place one town over that knew them by order. It had gotten quite complicated, trying to suit six different tastes, particularly during Fizzy's vegetarian phase.

"The place we used to order from, I tried working there for awhile just to get the discount. After the stadium refreshment job, before the toy store. But, got fired, of course," Liam probably could've guessed that without Louis pointing it out, "and she refused to ever order from them again. Loyal to the end, her, but I missed the pizza."

"Well, let's go have some them. You said you haven't worked there in forever, and if you don't want to see your family, you know they won't be there."

"You know, it wasn't until the toy store that I got the idea to move to London, so seems like I should thank them for firing me."

That was good enough for Liam, smiles across both of their faces now. "Sounds like a plan."  
Liam started the van back up and Louis turned around for one last look before telling Liam which way to turn at the end of the road.

One town over wasn't far in the suburbs and after ten minutes of terraced houses, empty fields, and unassuming shopping centres, Louis beckoned Liam to pull into the carpark of a specific unassuming shopping centre. Liam paused before opening the door to shoot a doubtful look over, but Louis puffed his chest. "Just because it's attached to a car parts store doesn't make the pizza any less good." Really, it was a shame the car store closed so early on Sundays as maybe somebody there would have a better idea as to the chances of the van making it the whole way back to London. 

"I'd never doubt you. You wouldn't lead me astray, navigator." Liam got out and let the door slam behind him before Louis could retort properly about how he was the captain of this mission, even if he'd let Liam handle most of the piloting so far. Instead, he reached for his backpack before getting out, crossing his fingers that he'd remembered their chargers and that the restaurant hadn't been renovated in the last five years. He knew exactly which table was next to a working outlet they could steal power from.

The restaurant didn't disappoint, the same vinyl seating, worn down industrial carpet, the chatter of Northern accents, and an aroma that had his hunger demanding his immediate attention. Louis grabbed two laminated menus and made a beeline for the table he wanted. The waitress never stood a chance.

Louis waited until their waitress had delivered their fizzy drinks before crawling under the table to plug in the charger. Louis had wanted to order a beer, but their funds were limited enough and, more so, even the smallest chance of someone checking his ID wasn't worth it. While it seemed that most of the people he worked with were gone now, his chances of being recognized would go way up if someone read his name. For all he knew, their waitress might be Lottie's best mate at school or something.

They decided on and ordered a meat special as the best way to make up for all their missed meals recently and make sure they don't go to bed hungry again, but Louis grabbed the menu in close study as a manager went by.

Liam choked a bit on his coke, laughing at Louis. "What? Are you wanted by the police up here or something?" He leaned in conspiratorially across the table, using his own menu as a shield from the rest of the room. "Just how much of a troublemaker were you?"

"Oi, no felonies or anything. But that guy that went by now, in the dress shirt? That's Max, the guy that replaced me." Louis, gobsmacked, slouched down in his chair somewhat even though Max the manager had since left the floor. "What's he still doing here? Like, could that've been me? Will it be me, except even older and working in a pizza place?"

"Well, you said they sacked you, so probably not this pizza place, most likely. Food service hasn't exactly been your strong spot in London either. Maybe the toy store though?" Liam's smile was a little too genuine for Louis' liking, his tone placating rather than sarcastic banter, and it reminded Louis that he hadn't let Liam know about his most recent firing. Their waitress gave them a strange look as Liam set his menu back down and made room for their pizza, but didn't have much interest in their argument.

Louis took a slice from the pizza with too much force, burning himself on the pan in the process, but the pain just fueled his anger. "Great so, it's the toy store I'll end back up at if I can't hack it. Drive my sisters to and from school. Lifelong bachelor, except not the fun kind, the kind that lives in his mum's spare room."

"Doesn't sound so bad?" Liam shrugged, "aside from the spare room part, I suppose, but you do know other people live here, right?"

"God, Liam, are you listening to yourself? What kind of big brother would I be to look up to? Teach them to give up when things get tough and come home with nothing to show for it." Louis pushed his untouched slice away from himself, hunger roiling into nausea. "This isn't working. This, practice quitting, or whatever this is. It's not supposed to make you go 'Oh, that's not so bad.' It's supposed to make you go, ' _Wow_ , quitting would be _fucking terrible._." Louis threw his hands across the table for the satisfaction of the thudding noise to punctuate his flare-up.

"No, I do get it, Lou, I do." Liam's sincerity still irked Louis, yet it had a bit of shame in it as well now, well deserved as far as Louis was concerned. Liam didn't look up at Louis, but did take one of Louis' hands in his own, a weird apologetic squeeze that didn't feel like enough. Louis still didn't want to let go. "Pizza does look really good though."

It did. Liam withdrew his hand to get his own slice more carefully than Louis had and took a bite immediately, chewing with his mouth open and giving Louis a smug cheesy smile. It was awful, but Louis kept eye contact now that he had it, meeting Liam's challenging stare, waiting for Louis to laugh or eat. "You're gross, you're making pizza gross." But he was damn sure going to eat it anyway.

It was two slices in when they started to slow down some that the manager did a round of the restaurant. Louis had been so concentrated on the food up til then he wasn't prepared for the approach and he grabbed Liam's soda, hoping drinking it down would obscure his face.

Max sidled up to their table, doing that crouch staff does in restaurants to 'get on your level.' "How is your meal going? Is there anything I can get you?"

Liam smiled _that_ smile. "It's been just great. I'm not from here, but we're on holiday and someone told me you guys had the best pizza in all of South Yorkshire, and really, it's true, isn't it?" Liam was a little shit. He wanted Louis to suffer, choke on his drink as he tried to sip slower so as not to run out. "It's been great to get out of the city. Big city and yet all the places are so small. Our flat is barely a postage stamp."

At least it seemed like Max was suffering too, not expecting someone to go on and on while he was crouched like that. He stood up stiffly. "It's wonderful your trip is going well and that we can be a part of it. It looks like your boyfriend could use some more to drink, so I'll go get that." With that, Louis did choke and Max gave him a weird look, but with no sign of recognition.

As soon as Max had turned around, Louis was tempted to do a spit take all over Liam with his own soda, but it would ruin the second half of the pizza. "You are such a little shit. Fucking wanker."

Liam was all giggles though and not a hint of remorse. "Don't call your boyfriend a wanker. That's like insulting yourself, innit? Fuck, now I don't have a drink because my _boyfriend_ drank all of mine."

"Is it so funny that someone thought I was your boyfriend?" Louis wasn't sure what answer he wanted to hear. Most people didn't go from maybe-I'd-like-kissing-you to boyfriends in less than twenty-four hours. "Mrs. Price thought the same thing, you know."

Liam's eyes bulged a little before he laughed again. "Look at Mrs. Price, up with the times and all. What did you tell her?"

"I didn't have time to tell her anything. At first, I figured I'd never see her again, but then you walked up to us talking and I wanted that ride, damnit. But do you have to make it sound so unbearable? I'm a fucking catch." Whether they could be real boyfriends, Liam had to at least concede Louis made a great fake boyfriend.

"You forget I live with you, I know how bad your shoes smell." Louis gave Liam a kick in the shins at that. "Ow, sorry, yes, anyone would be lucky to have such a weirdo for a boyfriend, myself included." Liam added his own kick on 'weirdo', but it turned into just short of a wrestling match under the table until the waitress approaching with two fresh drinks downgraded it into something more like footsie, ending with a trapped ankle left resting there as they went back to eating.

They didn't break apart until Louis' phone chimed with enough battery to turn itself back on. Louis held down the button to leave it off, ignoring any texts while rationalizing it would charge faster this way. Liam must not have scheduled any other shifts in preparation for leaving, since he hadn't checked his phone either.

They were on their last slice each when Liam set his down to ask, "What would be something?"

"What?" Liam constantly began conversations in the middle and the sad thing was, most of the time Louis knew what he was on about anyway, but not this time.

"Like, what's having something to show for it? Are you saying you won't go home til your first Grammy or will a Brit Award be good enough? Or just like, first song on the radio, because technically that's happened."

This wasn't the first time for this debate. "A live broadcast of a freshers event on uni radio does not count."

Liam was unfazed. "OK, so your song on the airwaves, not good enough. What if it was Radio One Extra?"

If Louis didn't give him something, Liam would keep going, getting more ridiculous as he went and Louis wanted to finish his dinner eventually. "Fine, I will consider myself an unqualified success and will go home without a bit of guilt after my first tour."

"Headlining or support?"

"Headlining. Dream big, right?" He raised his eyebrows comically before stuffing half of his last slice in his mouth in one go. If he was going for the impossible, might as well enjoy his favorite pizza one last time.

\---------------

If people hadn’t been looking at them before, they were then, eyes on Liam sitting in the aftermath of Louis’ exit. London wouldn’t be a big deal, couples made scenes in pubs all the time, but out here, with the retirees on vacation to the countryside or historic landmarks, they might not think too highly of the tattooed idiots in one corner of the pub having a very public spat over who dumped who. A couple that consisted of two guys, which might not go over well either. There was no telling how traditional the place was when he had no idea where he was. 

Liam sat in the booth, closing his eyes and rubbing his forehead, trying to hold back the wall of emotion that threatened to swallow him whole, but knowing he’d had too much to drink to manage it. For years, Liam had attempted to place the blame for the break up on Louis instead of himself. Louis had called it quits, it had been his choice, and while Liam had always felt guilty for giving Louis the reasons to go, it had been Louis that ended it. 

There was no doubt in Liam’s mind that he wished he hadn’t done it, hadn’t said what he said that day that started them down the road to the end. He knew that much was on him, and he felt guilty for it every day. At the same time though, Liam had always been sure it was ultimately inevitable. Liam regretted forcing them both into heartache, but they’d never been meant to be. It made sense, didn’t it? How could Liam, boring, plain Liam, ever keep up with Louis for that long? Louis shined bright and radiant and eventually he would have gotten bored with Liam and left. It didn’t matter how many sad songs either of them wrote, being together would have never lived up to expectations and they would have imploded one way or another in the end. 

But with what Louis had said, the silence that followed, that had Liam wondering if he’d convinced himself of all the wrong things. He’d spent years thinking he was alone because of a decision Louis made, but in reality, it was all on Liam. Liam was to blame. 

Liam had come home from morning meetings the day he was finally moving out of the bedsit, to find Louis sitting on their shared bed. The label had offered the flat they had for him earlier, but Liam had held off, wanting to wait until Louis was leaving for his first real tour to take down the memories they’d tacked up to the wall and pack them away in a shoebox like he had the night before. Liam didn’t have much else to go with it, a gym bag and his guitar case which were sitting by the door ready to go. The one thing he hadn’t packed was the notebook, because he hadn’t been sure how to pack it. It belonged to both of them now, and Liam knew it was more of a shared custody matter. 

Louis had it that afternoon though, doodling in a margin while he hummed through a song they’d worked on a few days earlier. Liam hummed too, pleased to see Louis smiling up at him before sitting with Louis on the bed to ask if he could take the notebook with him first. He was going into the studio while Louis would still be on tour and would love to have their music to work on. Louis had been fine with that of course, handing it over until Liam promised to post it to him once Louis got back from tour. 

That had been enough for Louis to take the notebook back and stare at Liam like he had two heads. Louis knew about the new flat, that Liam was moving, but Liam hadn’t explained the part where Louis wasn’t coming with him. The two people who did know about Louis had both advised against it. Pop stars with girlfriends had enough troubles, but a boyfriend, even the appearance of one, might cause problems with the mums who bought CDs and concert tickets for their kids. Liam had tried to explain that to Louis, watching his features go stony as Liam spoke, until Louis was getting up to get as far away from Liam as possible in the tiny room. He’d been terse at first, wanting to know why Liam had listened to anyone about what he was doing with his life. Then Liam had said the thing he’d regretted the most: he’d suggested that they could keep it a secret. 

Liam had seen Louis blow up before, but the explosion that came out of the older boy was like nothing Liam had ever seen. He’d gone to screaming in no time, demanding to know why he had to be the dirty little secret and why Liam was so ashamed of him and everything they were. Liam had tried to explain, repeating the things he had been told about image and privacy, but it had only made Louis angrier and louder, tears brimming in his eyes that weren’t shed because Louis was too stubborn to cry. 

When Louis had finally had enough, was finally done with the pathetic answers that Liam had given, he’d grabbed the notebook. Liam wasn’t even sure how he’d managed it, though the notebook was already worn around all the edges and the binding was questionable, but Louis had opened it, stepped on part of it and ripped it in half. That was what he thought of Liam’s stupid fucking notebook. That was what he’d thought of Liam’s stupid fucking face. He’d taken his half of it and walked out of the bedsit, slamming the door behind him. The car that had been hired to pick Liam up was there less than five minutes later, taking Liam away from everything he’d known in life, every memory tucked into a shoebox and in a ripped half a notebook. Liam’s half still had a Vans shoeprint on it. 

Liam had put all of that on Louis. Hhearing Louis say that Liam dumped him and not the other way around, Liam finally realized what Louis had done that afternoon. He hadn’t broken up with Liam or given up on them; he’d put whatever feelings he had for Liam aside and done the brave thing. The right thing. He hadn’t let Liam keep him a secret, he hadn’t let Liam shove him into a closet he didn’t belong in and would never lock himself in.

The landlord shook him from his thoughts, setting the bill in front of Liam with a pinched look on his face. “Think maybe you're done for tonight.” Liam nodded, hoping it was more around the mess they’d made than anything else since that was probably enough.

He dropped more than enough cash on the table to cover the tab and hopefully some of the mess, then headed back towards the toilets, assuming that was where Louis had gone. Liam found him kneeling in one of the stalls, dry heaving, one hand braced against the stall wall. Liam didn’t hesitate in moving forward, hand on Louis’ shoulder, but Louis shook his hand away before Liam could do more. 

“Ever the white knight, eh?” Louis asked, getting up unsteadily and using the wall to support his weight. “Don’t need you to told hold my hair back,” he added, pushing past Liam to head for the sinks. Liam thought he caught a glimpse of dampness on his cheeks, but before he could sort it out, Louis had splashed water on his face and covered up any signs of tears. It surprised Liam that he wanted them to be there, he wanted to know that Louis still cared that much even if the sheer possibility of being the reason Louis was crying made his insides hurt.

Louis looked up in time to catch Liam staring at him in the mirror over the sink, wiping his face in the elbow of his hoodie. “Whatcha staring at, Payno? Gonna tell me I’m still pretty even when I’m piss drunk and red faced?” He turned, facing Liam properly, biting at his thumb, sleeves of his hoodie pulled down over his hands for half a second, but before Liam could tell him yes, very much yes, Louis squared his shoulders. “Come on. Out with it. Still the best you’ve ever seen, right? Even as drunk as the night I met you, right?” 

It was all the fake confidence Liam had seen Louis use for years. It was a convincing lie, at least to anyone that hadn’t seen the real thing. The real moments of confidence when Louis knew he had something right, when he was doing something right. The moments he’d been alone with Liam. “Of course you are,” Liam answered, sounding far too honest, too sincere, for the facade Louis was projecting. Liam was too drunk to play along with the game. “You always were, even that night. You were perfect that night.” Liam had known the moment Louis crashed into his personal space his whole life was going to change. He’d felt it that night, just with the press of another body against his side, as if they’d been friends for years. Like there was a missing piece that he’d suddenly found without knowing he was looking for it. Louis was nothing like him, bright smiles and laughs, friends with everyone, and Liam wanted nothing more than to bask in it forever. From the first moment. 

Now he was alone with Louis in a bathroom, fuck knew where, years later and Liam knew he still wanted that. He still wanted to bask in that light, that essence. He wanted to breathe it in and let it fill him up, make him feel completely overwhelmed in the best of ways.

Liam watched an emotion he couldn’t define flinch across Louis’ features, watched it pull at the crinkles in his eyes, but in an instant it was gone and Louis was stumbling forward the few feet between them tugging at Liam’s shirt to drag him out of the bathroom. “Ever the charmer, aren’t you? Flash those big brown eyes and sound so fucking honest when you’re lying and everyone loves you?” 

“Lou, m’not lying,” Liam said, stumbling after Louis, too drunk himself to be drug around and not trip over his own feet. 

“Even better,” Louis slurred, pulling Liam towards the middle of the pub, hands up finding their way up Liam’s shirt. “Even better that you still think I’m pretty.” 

“Louis,” Liam tried again, but Louis was spinning them, dancing to music that wasn’t there, hands where they didn’t belong, pressing cool fingers into the dip in Liam’s lower back. 

“Shut up,” Louis insisted, moving them back and forth as he hummed to himself, but Liam couldn’t place the tune. “Just dance with me.” 

People were looking because Louis apparently had two volumes, loud and drunkenly loud, and currently he was saying everything at the second volume. Or maybe it sounded louder because Liam was drunk. Whatever it was, Louis needed to stop. “Louis,” Liam plead, not at all sure what to do with his hands that wasn’t tangling them in the mess that Louis was calling a hairstyle. He opted for setting them on Louis’ shoulders, putting some much needed space between them. “There’s no music playing,” he pointed out, hoping that would get Louis to stop. Liam could arrange them rooms, they could both sleep the drinks off. Liam could put a wall between himself and his urge to drag Louis closer and kiss away his fears that Liam might not think he was lovely still. By morning, it would all be forgotten. 

“There isn’t!” Louis spun around like he’d only then realized that, then addressed the room as a whole. “It’s a damn travesty, isn’t it? Where’s the music?” he looked around for a solution and Liam saw it before Louis did. The place was classier than either one of them, a small piano set in one corner probably for whatever local performer they had to play classic tunes, but suddenly there was a drunken Louis stumbling towards it. 

Liam’s limbs felt like sludge and he was too slow, not able to get there before Louis, not fast enough to stop a musician with his instrument of choice right there. Liam knew Louis could play drunk and wasn’t at all surprised to see Louis drop in front of the piano, starting off with a quick beat, something louder than the retiree crowd was ready for and it was definitely not one of Louis’s songs but one of Liam’s, the same song he’d turned the radio off for before. 

“How’s this one go?” Louis yelled at Liam, but Liam was too amazed that Louis could pick out the tune on the piano so easily. And drunk no less. “I’d give away all my money for you,” he sang at Liam. “Watch and my car keys too.” Louis paused, looking at Liam. “Keys to that car? Because I’ll take ‘em. Because we both know you weren’t stuck in bed over me.” If there was ever a reason for someone to recognize them, singing Liam’s most heart wrenching song, and biggest hit at the top of his lungs was probably the best way to test who in the room listened to the up and coming pop artists. 

“Louis, please, stop,” Liam begged, pulling at Louis’ arm, trying to get him to stop. 

“What? Hearing me play too much for you? How are you going to make it through tour?” Louis leaned into Liam, arms around his waist, looking up from where he was sitting and Liam was standing. “Or are you going to hide backstage the whole time? Wishing every fucking word wasn’t about you?” 

“Lou.” Liam breathed it out softly, feeling his resolve break, almost giving in and sinking down onto the bench with Louis. He could hold him tight and reassure him that it was the same for Liam. That he’d never felt the way he had with Louis. That nothing had ever been better. That nothing else could be. He was halfway there, ready to give Louis whatever he wanted when he heard someone clear their throat behind him. Liam looked over his shoulder, not at all surprised to see the landlord standing there. 

“Night’s over, lads.” 

So they weren’t getting those rooms tonight, were they? Liam sighed and hefted a half dead weight of Louis up off the piano bench. “Come on, Tommo. We’ve overstayed our welcome.” Liam shouldn’t have been at all surprised when Louis went limp at being dragged away, whining that he wanted to play for everyone. The landlord gave them one more look and Liam let his drunk mind make a decision for him. It helped that the squeak that Louis made at being slung over his shoulder was gratifying. Louis didn’t really fight him, just grumbling a little until they were outside, then his fingers were back under Liam’s shirt, pressing at that same spot again, tracing the dip in his back and sending little shivers up Liam’s spine with every touch. 

Liam managed to get them to the car without dropping Louis or before Louis’ fingers could duck under the waistband of his pants, which was where they seemed to be heading. He dumped Louis against the side of the Land Rover, one hand on the side of the car to steady himself, closing his eyes for a moment as everything tried to spin, a feeling that wasn’t helped by the way Louis was tugging at the hem of his shirt. 

“You’re too drunk to drive, aren’t you?” Louis teased. “My boy Payno, always a lightweight that one. That’s what I tell people.” He tsked a little, guiding Liam closer and without thinking about it, Liam went with it until Louis’ hand was flat against his stomach. 

“You don’t tell anyone about me,” Liam corrected.

“You don’t tell anyone you like boys too, so we’re even.” Louis laughed and leaned his head back against the car, eyes bright with the laughter, jaw and neck there for the taking. Liam almost leaned in again, almost pressed his mouth against that bare skin he’d loved so much, but focused on opening the door to the car instead. 

“We could have been staying at the B&B,” he pointed out, just to talk about anything else, because Louis was singing again, one of his old covers from their gigging days, when Louis still sang pop songs sincerely. Louis' voice sounded as good as it ever had,, even drunk. 

“Who cares?” Louis sang, both as a lyric and a question, slurring the next lines as he put more effort into steadying himself against the jostling car. "Dare tell me who to be…". 

Liam used to like the song, but flung at him like that, made him grit his teeth. That Louis was singing it after accusing Liam of still being in his closet confirmed all of Liam’s suspicions of what was actually bothering Louis. He hit the button to flatten the seats and give them something that sort of resembled a bed. “I care when you’re a total grump in the morning.” 

“Me?” Louis asked, hand to his chest as if he was insulted by such a comment. Like Liam hadn’t experienced hungover Louis before. “I’m not the one who’s been coddled by handlers for the past few years and forgot how to be rock and roll. I live on a tour bus or a van, thank you very much, Liam Payne.” He poked at Liam’s side until Liam had to grab his hands to make him stop. “The Liam I knew was adept at sleeping in cars. He was adept at a lot of things in cars.” 

Liam felt like an idiot, but he blushed at that, shaking Louis off and climbing into the car, pulling off his hoodie to double as a pillow, then reaching for Louis’ to do the same, not caring that Louis got stuck in it briefly and came out of it looking like a pissed off hedgehog with hair sticking up every which way. At least Louis climbed into the car with him though, musing with his hair and tucking his feet under him. “Or is it less about your old man back and more about the bands of renegades that might come attack us?” Louis asked, eyes sparking even in the dark, falling back with how hard he was laughing. “Or what was it? You said they lived in the moors.” 

He didn’t want to answer, but he knew Louis wouldn’t let it go, he never did. “Fairies.” 

“Fairies! Yes! You were worried they might come get you. Whisk you away to their fairy land and make you the ass of all their jokes,” Louis grinned, hands resting on his stomach as he looked at Liam. 

“It’s exactly what they would do,” Liam insisted. He’d grown out of those silly fears, but at the same time, he wasn’t beyond believing. 

“You don’t live in a Shakespearean play. And I’m upset you didn’t get that reference. Did they teach you nothing in that fancy college of yours?” 

“Didn’t you almost flunk out of yours?” 

“Not drama.” 

“Of course not.” Liam shook his head, not lying back with Louis yet, not sure he was able to. It seemed to come with too much, and Liam was pretty sure he was too drunk for that. He hadn’t expected Louis to go quiet though, nor did he expect to turn and find Louis staring at him, propped up on his elbows, head tilted slightly. “What?” 

“Sometimes you look just like him,” Louis said softly. 

Liam rolled his eyes and looked away. “I am him, Lou.” 

“Not really.” Liam looked back over at Louis, who was still staring at him. “But sometimes…” 

\--------

"I can't believe you." Liam sat up from his reclined position atop the table of the picnic bench at their campsite. "I cannot believe you're still hungry after all that pizza."

Louis scoffed as he rooted around in his bag, for some forgotten chocolate bar perhaps that he couldn't find the day before. "I can't believe you're still -- I don't know. I'm too hungry to be clever."

"You could have one of the beers. That's kind of like food." Through good fortune, they had received two six-packs from the campers who had stayed in their site the night before. Louis had been about to talk Liam back out of this whole caravan park idea, they had been fine on the road the night before and it was a waste of a few pounds to be around the same 'roving bandits' Liam had supposedly been so bothered about the night before, but on their second loop, a group was pulling out of a good space and told them to have at what they had to leave behind.

Louis walked back to Liam where the warm beers sat on the bench and pulled one off for himself as well as one for Liam. "Close enough to food, you're right. It's like dinner and entertainment all in one." It shouldn't be so surprising that he was hungry, he had labored.

While the people pulling out had resolved the issue of an open space, they hadn't taken into consideration that the van might not cooperate with even the slightest of slopes. At the time, Liam was in the driver's side, and to be fair, Louis had made Liam push the day before, so he got out, expecting it to only need a little shove to get purchase on the dirt. Instead, the van made a terrible noise of protest, even with the help, attracting one of their short-term neighbors-to-be.

At first, Louis expected a similar routine to that of Liam's at the petrol station, lifting the bonnet with a head shake of disapproval and nothing more, but instead this guy, called Mark, seemed to have a clue what bits did which thing. After pulling a few cable ties from his pocket to secure some broken plastic and tightening a few hoses, Mark asked Louis for some water, for the van apparently, not himself. Once done, Liam took it back out of the space and around the circle again to get momentum and make sure this mostly stranger hadn't busted their only way home.

Louis was actually in awe for a moment watching the van chug along. It wasn't like it was suddenly silent, but the death rattle was gone and some of the smell. His attention went from awe to pain, as he realized this is exactly what it would feel like to watch Liam pull away, drive out of his life. This weekend wasn't just practice quitting for Liam, it was practice losing Liam for Louis, and Louis had never been more sure in his life that he didn't want either. As the van made its circuit, Mark told Louis to fill the radiator with water in the morning and every time they made a stop, but Louis only half listened, eyes locked, waiting for Liam to turn the corner.

This time, the van made it up the hill all on its own, Liam all smiles as he swung out of the driver's side, proud of their little engine that could as it puttered down to a stop. Liam declared Mark a magician and Louis had to agree. Next to the left behind beers, there had also been a questionable half bottle of vodka, so Louis grabbed it to toast to the van, 'not such a quitter after all.' They each took a turn swigging from the bottle, but the burn was still going strong after it had gone around, so Louis told Mark to keep the bottle in thanks.

The beer was lukewarm, but the breeze was cool and with the sun nearly set, it wasn't unbearably awful sitting outside. Well, the temperature wasn't awful, rather their extended company was a bit painful on the ears. Someone a few spaces down was singing oldies along to an acoustic guitar and was punishingly off key.

"You know, we can barely get an audition with an agent on a good day and yet if he went for X Factor, how much would you bet he'd get at least to boot camp," Liam mused, laying down and staring up at the tree canopy with his drink in hand next to him.

"Only if I'm betting that he would make it to the performances. Louis Walsh would love him." Louis rolled his eyes and clinked his can against Liam's before sitting down on the bench and leaning his head back against Liam's thigh. "Too bad we don't have a television, so we'll never know who won the bet." Louis had a few more choice comments for their nearby performer, but when he started strumming 'Wonderwall', it was only a matter of time before they were both singing along.

"Not so bad at guitar, though," Liam remarked with a shrug, propping himself up for another sip and jostling Louis' head. Louis made the effort to stay in place though. He was comfortable like this with Liam. Touching without having to look at each other, just sharing each other's space. 

Without moving, he said, "It's not that hard to sing and play at the same time. You're good enough at them separately. Get it out and we'll practice." Liam didn't get up until the other guitar player went to bed, drinking and singing along in the meantime. Sunset turned to twilight and then to dark, able to see the stars where they peeked between the trees. Louis hadn't meant to sound so soft when he laid his head on Liam's shoulder and asked, "What would you wish right now?"

"I dunno, all sorts of things and nothing. For things to work out. Here, rather than a wish, a toast. To another year in London, whatever it brings." Louis elbowed Liam's side, wanting him to keep talking. "Which means, _yes_ , I'm staying, I won't go."

It was like a shot of pure energy to Louis' system. He pulled two more beers off the pack and shoved it in Liam's hand, bouncing in front of him. "We need more than a toast, then. What's more than a toast?" There was a glint in Louis' eye as it came to him. "We have to chug."

Liam always begged out of these contests at home. He was a less experienced drinker than Louis and most of their friends and didn't see it the way Louis did about having to play catch up. But everything was different here, in this temporary world they had created. Things had changed, Louis was sure of it. This Liam would take new risks.

Biting his lip, Liam opened the new beer slowly. "You know, if we chug, we'll only have one beer left each. You sure?" Louis knew stalling when he saw it.

"Stop making excuses." Louis attempted to keep an eye on Liam as he tilted his head back to drink, but he was only halfway through the can when a swallow down the wrong pipe set him choking. With the help of some strong slaps to his back from Liam, Louis gamely kept himself from a spit-take and wasted beer, but Liam had barely managed a few gulps. After a few more coughs, Louis clinked his can against Liam's. "That wasn't a chug, try again. So try again, for me this time. To uphill battles."

Louis added a smirk at the end, a challenge issued as he brought the can up to drink again, albeit a little slower. Liam held up a finger to pause. "No, if this is the last one, we have to make it count. Something for both of us. To friends not giving up on each other?"

"To teammates," Louis offered, but Liam stopped him again before drinking.

"To partners," and with Liam's big doe eyes focused on him, Louis had to drink just to break the eye contact. 

It was only when he giggled and threatened to choke again that he stopped. "I've got another one! To blagging our way to the top."

"To the most talented guy I know." Liam's sincerity always ruined these kind of games. It was Louis' most favorite least favorite thing about Liam, but Louis could never admit how compliments like that bolstered his confidence when he was low. Louis was shaking his head with his eyes on the ground to avoid any more of those earnest looks so he wasn't prepared when Liam added, "With the biggest bollocks too!"

This time, he couldn't help it, he lost the last of his beer to the ground, sputtering out of him as he laughed. "Oh really? You've sized them up?" Liam's ambiguous smirk while he downed his beer slowly and without an issue was too much to let stand.

Maybe Liam was tipsier than Louis realized, as he tipped over without much resistance when Louis rammed into him, tickling and shoving. Eventually, Liam got his wits together to combat Louis pinching and prodding, except it was different. Louis would say his heart wasn't in the fight, but that wasn't exactly right. The summer heat left their skin clammy and rather than continually jumping about, Liam's hands held steady on Louis' side and wrist.

Louis laughed a bit louder and squirmed a bit harder until Liam let go. The cigarettes were still in his bag in the van and two beers in was when Liam would normally steal one, so it made sense for Louis to go get them. He both needed the space and wanted to eliminate any space left between them entirely.

The cigarettes were easy to find, but, digging through, Louis couldn't find the lighter. Louis always left it in the pack, but Liam typically slipped it in his back pocket and forgot about it entirely. "Hey you, got a light?" Louis shouted, still leaning inside the van.

He was still turned around when Liam came up behind him and put a hand on his waist. "Yeah, I got it. Sorry." Louis remembered how slow Liam had been to accept Louis' personal space invasion tendencies when they first met. Right now, Louis' memory was less certain about when Liam adapted well enough to pick up the habit himself, if that had changed before this trip. He couldn't trust himself to know how different things were.

"Little firebug or something. Give it over so you don't lose it in the grass or something." Louis concentrated on lighting his own cigarette, and then Liam's. At least the cigarettes kept his mouth busy for the moment, but Louis wasn't sure how much longer that strategy would work. Once their last round of beers were finished, they wouldn't have a reason to stay up any longer.

Louis tried to natter on about anything else, stupid things their friends had done, the last movie he had made an effort to see. He tried to bullshit through the details, since it'd been six months ago, but then he remembered he and Liam saw it together.

Liam made a show of listening yet his mind was elsewhere, clouded. When he did interrupt Louis, he began mid-sentence, whatever thoughts floating in his mind ready to share. "For real, though. Obviously I need a better demo and you --" Liam's pointer finger landed in the middle of Louis' chest with a thud, depth perception slightly off for how close they were sat next to each other. "You are damn well going to help. We're good together, right?"

"Right." Louis pulled Liam's hand away from his chest, but held onto it after, awkwardly settling their joined hands in Liam's lap. Liam looked at him expectantly for more of an answer. "We're you expecting to get a start right now?"

Liam shrugged, slightly embarrassed, but Louis could recognize that single mindedness, that mission. The need to do something right now, not wait. "No, of course not, it's late and vacation and stuff," Liam lied.

"It is late, so we should probably stick to working in the van. Less likely to disturb anyone." They got vaguely ready for bed, rubbing toothpaste on their teeth with a finger since they had managed to still forget toothbrushes and rinsing with bottled water, piling their jeans in the corner, laying the pillows out again. They were stalling and Louis didn't know why, other than he was doing it as much as Liam was. It gave them some time to sober up and wind down a little, but the urgency still persisted under the surface. "We can lay down and talk it out. Visualize, right? Big picture stuff."

"Right." Liam laid down first and Louis followed, leaving space between them, carefully not touching. "I guess some of it is focus. Like what kind of artist do I want to be? What station is going to play my music?"

Louis listened even if he wasn't as good at the strategy element. It wasn't as simple as the music or the image came first, but Louis felt like the music was the only part he had control over. The image followed on its own. He was also distracted by how easy it would be turn to the side, to kiss on purpose. The space between them had shrunk and Louis wasn't sure who had moved when. Louis slipped back and forth from a daydream that was very nearly a sleep dream and maybe a finger's reach from real life.

Liam startled him, having let a silence fall and then breaking it. "I have an idea."

"Yeah?" Louis hoped he sounded curious, which he was, and not hopeful, which he also was.

Liam turned on his side and pulled at Louis until he did the same, facing each other. "We should do it together."

Louis choked on nothing, the burn from his coughing fit earlier aching in his lungs. "What? Do what together?" 

"Perform maybe, sometimes?" Louis breathed again. The idea still made him nervous, but a kind of nervous he could handle. He nodded as Liam looked at him expectantly with nerves of his own. "At least, we definitely have to write more together though. It's, like, special, right?"

"Like last night? Yeah, it was." There were parts of himself that Louis couldn't imagine sharing and yet he had. Instead, it was hard to think of anything he wouldn't share with Liam. Anything Liam might want from him was for the taking. Louis swallowed hard, making sure his voice wouldn't crack. "Should we do anything else together?

The doe eyes were back and paired with a barely open mouth, Liam's lips relaxed and probably warm. It looked like Liam understood what he was saying, but Louis needed more than that, to know. He moved forward and Liam didn't move away. Going slow meant all of Louis' muscles tensed, holding his weight, seconds from shaking, but the resulting kiss was so light, Liam probably didn't feel him tremor. Light yet directly indisputably on target, full of purpose. Liam's lips were as warm and soft as they looked and when Louis backed up, worried the kiss had been the wrong move, those lips remained loosely open as Liam nodded.

Louis didn't hesitate to kiss Liam again, but it wasn't until Liam slid an arm under him, supporting him, that Louis truly leaned to it, nerves not gone, rather pushed into the periphery. Liam soothed those nerves even farther away as he stroked up Louis' back under his shirt, always moving, maybe even fidgeting from his own anxiousness, but always pulling them closer too. This wasn't exactly new territory for Louis and he didn't think it was for Liam either, but he couldn't be sure. There was only so much dating you could manage when you share one room, one bed even, with someone else. More than that, there was something familiar in how Liam's hands felt on his waist, like how they might slide around him on a night out as they leaned on each other to stay standing or resting on his hip when it was cold and they doubled up in the small bed.

It wasn't cold now. Louis' shirt was already sweat through and it stuck to him as he sat up and peeled it off, eager for Liam's hands on more of his skin. Liam clearly agreed with the concept as he went for Louis' jeans' button at the same time, pulling Louis off balance and sending him backwards. Louis wasn't sure how far this was going, but he didn't want it to slow down either so he lifted his hips as Liam pulled, motions coordinated and confident and not nearly as tipsy as Louis had thought they both were minutes ago.

Jeans off and balled under the seat, Liam slid his hands up Louis' legs, but when he reached his thighs, fingertips at the hem of his boxers, that confidence shook for a moment, long enough for Louis to sit back up and pull Liam into his lap. This angle at least made it easier for Louis to pull Liam's shirt off as well before they could get back to kissing. It didn't seem particularly fair that Louis was the one down to his pants and yet he was the one sitting directly on the hard metal van floor, but he didn't care to stop or flip them. Liam kept the distance between them a moment longer, steadying himself with a grip on Louis' shoulders, and Louis braced himself for the discussion about what they were doing, but then Liam collided against him again, mouth tight on Louis' neck with nothing more to say.

Every joking love bite between them flashed into Louis' mind and he couldn't understand, why none of them had lead here. Head tilted back, he stared out of the van window, at the trees, at the twinkle lights on a neighboring camper's canopy. They were so far from their world and maybe that was why it was happening. Maybe it couldn't happen in their world, as part of their life in London they had to return to tomorrow. Louis didn't want it to go away, but he knew he wanted to seize it while he had it, so he grinded up into Liam, rough and greedy. Liam let go of the bit of flesh he had been teasing with alternating teeth and licks, giving Louis his chance to kiss him again, crashing together, fully committed now.

Louis let out a less than dignified whine the next time Liam broke away from the kiss, but Liam wouldn't let himself be tempted back nor did he return to Louis' neck, instead sliding off Louis' lap and kneeling between Louis' legs. The angle meant Liam couldn't do much other than lick and kiss and Louis tilted his hips up higher, craving that little bit more. Driven by need, Louis scrambled up to his knees, back against the passenger seat and knees digging into the metal. Neither of them could stay like this for long, but that urgency pushed Louis towards the edge faster. The way Liam gripped Louis' hips as he finally could put his mouth all the way over him was as desperate as Louis felt and so hot. Louis could barely coordinate looking down but once he did, it was overwhelming. Liam looked hot and felt hot and the windows were completed fogged now and it was those waves of heat pulsing through him that Louis felt right before he came.

There was no pause for afterglow or even catching his breath as Louis pushed Liam flat on his back, head fortunately crashing into one of the pillows instead of the floor. There was no room to think, barely able to concentrate long enough to get Liam's fly open. All that was in Louis' mind was that same thought, that this might only exist once and he wanted it so badly, every last moment, that it threatened to paralyze him. Even with his thoughts clouded, Louis knew he didn't want to stop kissing Liam so he started there, tasting himself and pressing tight together and letting Liam grind into his thighs. Louis barely got a hand down between them before Liam came. The elation at having heard Liam come came at the price of whatever this suspended moment was ending. Louis collapsed against Liam's chest with a frustrated grunt.

Liam didn't tense with regret or go limp with post-orgasm exhaustion, but dazedly carded his fingers through Louis' hair. "S'wrong?" he mumbled.

Louis couldn't put the words together about what worried him without making it all sound too dramatic, so he settled on his lesser, but still honest, dissatisfaction. "I wanted to return the favor, like. Or something else, more than."

"If you're that upset about it, give me ten minutes or so. I'll see what I can do." Liam's deadpan predictably lasted only until the end of the sentence before breaking into a giggle. Louis laughed too and it felt good, like a pressure valve. Louis let himself feel the endorphins he had been too preoccupied to enjoy minutes earlier before tucking himself back into his pants. He hadn't realized at first he was still out, considering the rush he'd been in to get to Liam. Otherwise, they stayed wrapped around each other like that. The second time never came, but Louis roused a few hours later with the earliest sun coming through the windows.

Rather than pulling a blanket over them to block out the light like Louis normally would, he took advantage of the quiet moment to commit as much detail as possible to memory. Liam tossed in his sleep, and with his legs open like that, Louis briefly entertained whether he could slide Liam's pants down to memorize that specific part a bit better, when Liam grumbled awake.

"Are we just looking or are we going again?" The smirk on Liam's face despite his closed eyes made Louis wonder how long the bastard had been faking and what had he seen. Louis never kept his emotions off his face as well as he wished he did, but better for Liam to think Louis was a pervert for ogling him than all moony.

"Would that be okay?" Louis asked with a leer.

"It's been longer than ten minutes, hasn't it?"

Their banter shouldn't fit so well to flirting, or had they always sounded this flirty? Louis was torn between insecurity and animal brain, seeing Liam laid out almost naked and half hard. He had to carefully walk the line between the two, more carefully than anything he'd ever done before. It wasn't like him to make relationship demands after one hookup and there was so much Louis didn't want to change, but there was one thing he had to know. "You promise, you aren't leaving? You're staying."

Liam sat up on his elbows, eyes fully open and locked with Louis', earnest and sincere and entirely overwhelming. "Lou, I said it the other night and I meant it. No other place I'd rather be. If you need me to rip up the ticket, I will."

"No, you don't have to," Louis replied, but with a touch of mischief. Liam's eyes narrowed as he watched Louis reach into their bag and pull the ticket out, ripping it up handily himself. He threw the pieces of card up in the air as Liam rolled back down laughing. "I can take care of it, can take care of you." He pulled the toiletries kit of the bag too, and settled between Liam's legs to do precisely that.

\---------

Liam took off his boots while Louis stared at him, nudging him with his toe. “Come on, Lou. Bed. You need to sleep it off.” They both did. Liam needed to be sober now so he could put space between them properly. So he could drive and Louis could sleep. So he wouldn’t be stuck in the cramped back of his car, watching Louis struggle out of his shirt, eying every patch of exposed skin. He chuckled as Louis got stuck again, not at all sure how he managed to get stuck in a shirt that was clearly two sizes too big. It couldn’t be his, but Liam didn’t want to entertain the idea of Louis having some boyfriend whose clothes he stole. 

“Stop laughing at me, Leem,” Louis demanded when he emerged from his shirt, hair in even more of a disarray, sticking up in places and falling in his eyes in other places.

“Can’t help it when you look ridiculous,” Liam laughed, except the laughter cut off quickly when Louis was suddenly in his lap, nothing but bare skin and bright blue eyes that Liam could see clearly even in the dark. 

“How ridiculous do I look now?” Louis asked, one eyebrow raised, arms draped around Liam’s neck. 

“Lou…” He didn’t. Not at all. His hair was still mucked up, but this close, right where he belonged, Louis looked gorgeous. “This isn’t…” Liam cleared his throat and dropped his eyes from Louis’ only to get caught up staring at his mouth. “This isn’t why I did this. Or why I’m here.” 

“It’s not?” Louis shifted his hips, grinding against Liam lightly and even the barest of touches made his breath catch in his throat. “Are you sure?” 

One of them was a masochist for all of this and Liam wasn’t sure which one it was. Louis was in his lap, coaxing want out of him, want that Liam had firmly ignored, but Liam wasn’t pushing Louis away. Instead he was curling his hands around Louis’ ribcage, amazed at how Louis felt so familiar and so different at the same time. Had his hands always spanned most of his back or had his hands just gotten bigger? Did it matter? 

When Liam didn’t answer, Louis grinned, running his fingers through Liam’s short hair. He’d still had his curls the first time Louis did that, but Liam tilted his head into Louis’ hand and closed his eyes, the same way he always had. “There you go,” Louis murmured. “When will you learn I always know best?” Liam could feel the puff of breath that came with the words against his mouth, amazed that somehow they’d wound up this close all over again. 

“Lou.” A final protest, his hands slipping further up Louis’ back, pulling him closer even as he tried to talk him out of it. They were drunk, this was stupid, but it was Louis. How many nights had Liam fallen asleep reaching for him? How many nights had he woken to dreams of him? How many times had it been Louis in his mind when he was getting off, on his own or with someone else? Too many times. Always. There was never anyone else. Liam would be lying if he said there was. And he knew that wasn’t the case for Louis which meant this wouldn’t end well for Liam. 

“Shut up. Don’t ruin this for me,” Louis demanded, letting Liam’s hands on his back close the last of the space between them, if there was any really. His kiss was hot and demanding,like Louis always was, hips grinding down again, but with a definite urgency this time. Like the moment might slip away. 

Liam caught Louis’ chin, slowing the kiss, fingers curled along his jaw, long enough now to tangle in Louis’ hair. Louis only pulled back when he had his hands on Liam’s shirt, pulling it up and over his head and tossing it away. Then his hands were flat on Liam’s chest, pushing at him until Liam fell back, a giggling drunk Louis sprawled over him. Liam leaned up to kiss away the laughter, wanting to savor it for himself, keep it for when everything went awry later. Louis went with the kiss for a moment before the desperation was back, sitting up and back enough to fiddle with the flies of his jeans then Liam’s, not completing the first task to focus on the second and before Liam could protest cool fingers had slipped under the waistband of his trousers and wrapped around him. 

Liam’s hips bucked up into the touch amazed at how familiar a hand could feel, how the way Louis stroked him once with a wicked grin was so much better than any time anyone else had done it ever. Louis knew though. He knew every in and out of Liam. They hadn’t been together long, only a few months, but any time they hadn’t had to work or perform, they’d spent in bed. It was a productive few months and the only reason either of them wouldn’t know every inch of the other was if they’d forgotten. Louis moved his hand again, just the right way to get Liam groan, and he knew Louis hadn’t forgotten. 

Louis’ rhythm faltered though, his hips grinding into Liam’s as he made a frustrated noise, not able to get himself sorted as well, and Liam wound up rolling them over with ease, winding up on top of Louis. Liam kicked off away his jeans and boxers, still having a little bit of sense to hope the windows were as dark as he thought they were and then made short work of Louis’ pants as well. He had to bat Louis’ hands away twice, trying to get in and help, but was able to lick a stripe down his hand and work it between them lining them up together. “Fuck,” Louis swore, head falling back as Liam worked. 

The whole thing was a mess, elbows in the way, hands and bodies moving more out of muscle memory than anything else. Louis was different, jagged edges at his hips and shoulders that hadn’t been there when they were younger. At the same time he was still Louis. He still jumped in the best of ways when Liam tweaked his nipple. He still mouthed at Liam’s birthmark, short nails digging into Liam’s shoulder when he came. It was sloppy and over sooner than it should have been, but the embarrassment that might normally be there wasn’t. It was just them, sprawled naked in the back of the car, catching their breath. 

Louis whined when Liam tossed his pants back at him, putting them on nonetheless. The moment Liam was partially dressed and lying back, Louis curled up under his arm, right arm thrown across Liam, idly tracing his collarbone for a moment before falling asleep. Liam wondered if they should have talked about what they’d done, how Louis hadn’t wanted to be anywhere near him, but drunk and sleepy, he was pressed against Liam, skin warm from sex, fingers cool like they always were. It was too nice a feeling, too familiar, to interrupt with questions of what the hell they’d just done or what it meant. 

Liam looked at the hand splayed on his chest, same as it always had, over his heart like Louis was claiming it for his own. It had thrilled Liam when he was younger, feeling like Louis knew how deeply he cared about him without thinking about it, but now it felt too real. Louis had always had claim of his heart. He’d had it since the day Liam had met him, and now, years later, no matter who else Liam tried to give his heart to, Louis always had it first. Liam picked up Louis’ hand, needing to move it, feeling caged in and trapped by the realization, but he stopped, before he could move his hand away, holding it in his. 

Louis’ tattoos of his half sleeve were a muddled mess, things that only barely made sense to Liam, who’d know him inside and out for years, but one line was hidden, buried in with a compass and birds, two words. ‘Never change’. It was hard to see in the dark, but there, inked on Louis’ skin in a spot that cameras wouldn’t catch it, that would be facing him when he held his microphone. Liam knew what it was from, where he’d gotten the two words. They were right out of the song that he and Louis had written together, the song that had gotten Liam famous, the song about the last time they’d loaded into a car and took a trip with no destination. 

And they were in Liam’s handwriting. 

\-----

Louis had done a decent job of pinning one of the sheets in the door jam to dull the sunlight, but it had come down when Liam opened the door to go for a piss and try as he might, there was no ignoring the day any longer. None of the fear from waking up alone was there this morning. Liam was staying. There wasn't room in his head for all of the thoughts and possibilities right now, but that one he trusted. In fact, it felt like there was significantly less room in his head than normal and he groaned when the noise of the door handle wrenching open sent an unexpected spike of pain through his head. Louis was practiced at surviving a hangover or getting by on barely any sleep, however the combination was rougher.

"I have tea." Liam looked like a real life saint, curls backlit and paper cups steaming in his hands.

"I don't deserve tea, I don't want to associate it with this feeling," Louis said, but gratefully took the cup anyway. One sip and he was ready to crawl out of bed just so he could spit it out on the dirt. He poured the rest onto the ground after it. "Whatever I've done, I really don't deserve this tea."

"They've coffee too, but it's worse."

Louis grimaced at the thought, but reached back into the van for a fresher shirt from his duffel and a pair of basketball shorts. Although he couldn't be certain the clothes he put in the bag were clean to begin with, these at least weren't soggy with sweat and humidity. "Coffee always tastes terrible though; it's not a surprise."

Liam made an offended pout into his cup. "I thought you liked the coffee I make you when you come by the shop."

"Liam, you make us mochas. It's basically a hot cocoa. Of course it's good." However, the idea of that much sugar right now was not appealing in the least. Grease and sausage could tempt him maybe, but truly terrible, bitter coffee from a shared urn was the way to quiet his stomach and headache.

Bothering with a shirt to go to the common area was completely optional as it turned out. None of the other campers still on site this far into the day looked in much better shape than Louis, huddled around the picnic table designated for "complimentary amenities." Louis refilled the cup Liam had brought him with coffee instead and it was as bad as promised if not worse, but it lined his stomach like a kind of protective armor against the churn.

Standing near the edge of the group was Mark from the other day, possibly a bit worse for the wear from that vodka they'd given him. Silent head nods were greeting enough between them and they both winced when the conversation of some of their more awake neighbors grew louder.

"You look like you could use this too." Mark held out a little prepackaged packet of aspirin, probably from a first aid kit. The van hadn't set on fire when they drove it back around so Louis trusted him well enough, had that same kind of "always prepared" scout attitude Liam sometimes did. He took the packet and swallowed the pills down, the bitter taste indistinguishable from the coffee. By the time the cup was finished though, Louis felt better enough that the sun was no longer his mortal enemy, merely an annoyance to squint at and avoid as he walked back to the van.

Liam sat in the open van door holding one of the scraps of ticket from earlier. "Left from Euston about an hour ago," Liam said, mostly to himself, before crumpling the scrap and tossing it in Louis' direction. Louis caught it and threw it right back, bouncing it off Liam's head back into the depths of the van.

"I shouldn't have ripped it up, probably could have gotten you a refund or used it for Christmas." Louis had felt fearless when he'd done it though, some small bit of control of their shared destiny in his hands. Liam looking up and waiting for him had possibly contributed as well. "Maybe got carried away… in the moment."

Liam bit his lip, but a dirty giggle escaped anyway. "Fit of passion maybe?" Louis reacted predictably, tackling him and biting at Liam's neck when his head rolled back, but the way Liam grabbed Louis' bum as he went was not part of their normal routine. The combination sent blood both rushing to and away from his head, giving Louis a stab of hangover pain again. It really was time to get on the road, yet that didn't make Louis' own body cockblocking him any less frustrating.

Louis climbed over Liam into the front seat. The drive would help him focus on something other than his receding headache and he did have the very slight advantage over Liam in knowing what county they were in. "Time to get back to the adventure part of this mission. You're on navigation." Louis tossed the map at Liam as he clambered over to the passenger side after closing up the side door.

Louis thought taking over driving for awhile was a noble gesture after saddling Liam with most of it the day before, but thing was, without the responsibility of driving, Liam was free to talk and sing and anything really that wandered into his head. There was the map, except Liam was less for doodles and more for studying everything Louis drew the day before. As long as Liam stayed busy with that though, at least he wasn't looking at the notebook. Louis wondered how nervous he should be about Liam reading anything he had written the day before, but based on where things had gone, Louis hadn't been completely off his head.

"So where're we headed?" Louis asked.

"South." Liam learned fast and it was both a curse and a blessing for Louis.

"C'mon, you've got a whole map of places. Pick one."

Liam scanned all the markings again. "What criteria am I using for picking?"

The beach was far off their drive home now, but there had to be something worth seeing in the whole middle part of the country. "Just somewhere fun. Fun and cheap. Watch the signs too, if you see somewhere to eat."

Liam read down Louis' options, but he had written down more than just places for them to go on random visits. There were stars on places Louis had fantasized about playing shows at, big festivals and the like. Pound signs on places they could go together when they had money, seaside towns at the very tip of the southwest where they could get to a beach eventually. Some Liam read because he enjoyed the names.

"What's the sudden obsession with beaches anyway? Most of 'em are gray and have boats and stuff. Or if we had money, wouldn't we be going to Spain for beaches or something?"

It was hard for Louis to even comprehend having that kind of money. "We'll be working too hard to get away for too long, talent in high demand and all. And I don't know, a dream really did start this whole mess, like I fell asleep after we hung up and…" Louis trailed off trying to remember really exactly what the dream had been. Maybe the palm trees hadn't been a beach at all, but Los Angeles, not that flying to America was any less impossible to imagine. It sounded so heavy when he tried to condense the feeling into words. "It was just about something waiting for us, something we needed to experience. And why wouldn't you want to go? Don't want to see me in my swim trunks?"

"You walk around in nothing but your pants all the time, which is pretty much the same thing."

"Well now you've seen the whole package, so I suppose I don't have to wear anything at our place now." Louis tightened his grip on the steering wheel and considered how to drive into a ditch. It was still entirely possible last night was one time only and Louis really didn't want to deal with two big friendship ending confrontations in one trip.

Rather than any 'we need to talk' type lead up, Liam instead mused, "Suppose that'll help with the washing."

Louis scoffed. He was staving off a crisis and Liam was thinking about how new cohabitation rules might improve chores. "Way to take all the fun out of it."

"Way to leave more time for fun."

The way Liam's eyebrows jumped for effect when Louis looked over went a long way to lightening the mood. Maybe assuming it was one time only was a little short-sighted as Liam certainly wasn't making any point to shut him down. It wouldn't have been hard to pivot into a 'how is this going to work' conversation, but Louis couldn't manage that and drive. With Liam not going anywhere, they'd have time to figure it out. In a lot of ways, they had the big things about beginning a relationship already handled, sharing a place and everything that goes with it, bills and meals and clothes, taking care of each other. It was the little things that were changing, looks between them, a different edge to Liam's smile sometimes, things that moved them from close to intimate. It was such a thin line, Louis shouldn't have been surprised by how easy it was to cross.

Louis still didn't want to talk right now, but there was an easy way to show Liam where he was at. "Fun like more songs, you mean?" Louis challenged. "If the only direction right now is 'head south', get out the notebook. I think I've got an idea for the bridge from the other night." Maybe they could avoid talking forever by sharing themselves this way instead.

\--------

Liam wasn’t at all surprised to find Louis still asleep in the back of his car when he got back to it. He was where he’d been when Liam woke, rolled on his side away from Liam, knees pulled towards his chest. He’d always made a show of sleeping like he took over everything, but in the end, Louis always wound up curled in a ball, still as small as ever. 

“Lou,” Liam said, poking his side and holding the door open. Louis groaned and swatted at him, then held his head for a moment, groaning again. “Up Lou, come on. Put your jeans on before you get out of the car.” 

Liam shut the door again and went back to sipping the coffee he’d gotten at the pub. The landlord was still upset, handing Liam a flyer for some local landmark as if to say ‘take the coffee and go anywhere but here’. Liam could tell they weren’t wanted. He fished a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, half crumpled, but he was able to get one out and lit it as something thudded inside the car, followed by Louis’ swearing. He looked back, then shoved his lighter away, not wanting to share that quite yet. 

A moment later the door opened, Louis tumbling out of it jeans on but not done up, shirt hiked up around his armpits. He tugged at the shirt, and Liam had to raise an eyebrow. That was definitely not Louis’ shirt. It was one of the clean ones out of Liam’s bag which meant Louis had to go looking for it. That was fair since Liam was pretty sure he’d used Louis’ shirt to clean them up the night before, but it had been so long since he’d seen Louis in his clothes and Liam knew it was doing things to him. Louis blinked at him, one hand holding himself up on the side of the car, staring at Liam hard enough to make Liam uncomfortable. Liam opened his mouth to ask him what he was thinking, to tell him to get on with it, fear twisting in his gut over whatever Louis might say, when Louis abruptly turned and stumbled around the side of the car. After a moment, Liam heard a retching sound and rolled his eyes. “Or not.” 

Liam leaned back against the car, focusing on nothing more than the acrid burn of cigarette smoke in his lungs and not the noises from around the side of the car. His mind wanted to drift to Louis in his clothes, hair rucked up and sleepy eyes, but he forced it away from that, sure it would take him down a dangerous path. 

Of course he’d already run headlong down it the night before the instant he let Louis kiss him. There was no real coming back from that, Liam knew that, but he also knew he could pretend there was, if only for a little while. All he had to do was get back to London then he could wallow. 

Just as Liam finished his cigarette, the sound of Louis emptying his stomach stopped and before he could stub it out, Louis was next to him, leaning against the car, close enough that Liam could feel the warmth off his skin. 

“Here,” Liam said, reaching up to where he’d put the cup of coffee on the top of the car and handing it Louis. Any other time, tea was always the answer with Louis Tomlinson, but hangovers were something else, and those were times when he only wanted coffee. Louis took the takeaway cup between his hands, eyeing it for a moment before taking a tentative sip. Liam couldn’t help but smile as Louis sighed, closing his eyes and leaning against the car. He pulled the bottle of painkillers out of his pocket and dropped a few into Louis’ waiting palm, not really looking at the man next to him, yet enjoying his presence. They used to always be like this, close even when they weren’t paying attention to one another, no more than a breath away. 

“Of all the things to remember,” Louis eventually mumbled down at the cup in his hand. 

“Hmm?” Liam looked over then, not able to see Louis’ face from where his hair was draped across his forehead. 

“The coffee. You remembered.” 

Liam ached to tell him that there wasn’t anything he’d forgotten. He knew how Louis took his tea, how he always ate the crusts of his sandwiches even if he didn’t like them because it was wasteful not to. He knew how Louis hummed in the shower, how he sang brighter when he was distracted, when the words meant something. Liam knew the right spot on his neck to touch, to kiss, that would make Louis go pliant, no matter how worked up he was. He knew the sounds Louis made when he slept, when he came. Liam still knew everything and it kept him awake at night. 

“Hard to forget,” he said instead, flicking the cigarette butt away and reaching for his tea. “Come on. We should get going.” 

“Try again,” Louis said, flipping his hand at Liam and starting across the car park. “I need brekkie.” 

Ironic considering he’d so recently emptied his stomach, but Liam managed to catch his arm with a shake of his head steering him away from the pub doors. Louis looked offended for a moment, then winced as, Liam assumed, more of the night before came back to him. “There’s a tea room around there,” Liam supplied, like it might help. Louis huffed a sigh, probably more interested in a full English than a pastry, but with limited options, he went along with Liam, following in his wake towards their only choice. 

The tea room was quaint, adorable on a late morning with a patch of green grass next to and beyond it, like the little rolling hillside was built into it and not the other way around. Liam liked it immediately, the way everyone seemed friendly when he and Louis walked in despite the fact that he was sure they look as if they slept in the car. 

Louis leaned against the display case, looking over everything, and eventually ordering some eight different croissants and cakes, a cup of coffee and a tea, then left Liam to pay while he scurried off to the bathroom. Likely to throw up again. Liam never did understand the way Louis handled his alcohol. Or didn’t handle it. 

He paid for another cup of tea for himself, then gathered up their bag and headed outside, towards the little tables set up in the green grass overlooking the countryside. He knew Louis would catch up eventually and didn’t hesitate to start into one of the pastries that he would have gotten for himself. The little cafe was a short walk down to the lake nearby, something small that likely would turn into something bigger if the size of the boats floating in it were any indicator. Maybe this was where boats floated to when they were docked for the evenings, like cars in a carpark. 

It reminded him of a song he’d been working on, nothing more than a hum of a melody and an image in his head that he hadn’t been able to turn into words yet. He was still pushing hard to write on his own to avoid the songs written for him, but he was running out of words as of late. Maybe that was why he’d dragged Louis on this stupid trip. 

He was close to letting himself get caught in that downward spiral that morning-afters always brought for him, regret and a hangover bundled into one giant sadness pile. Or he was until something hit him. The football didn’t hit him as much as it did the bench he was sitting on, startling him out of his own mood to grab it and look as to where it came from. 

The girl looked pained, with that extra bit as if hitting some stranger with her ball made her already miserable mood even worse. Abandoning his food, Liam went over to her, dropping the ball a few feet away and giving it a gentle tap towards where she was looking at her feet and mumbling something he couldn’t here. “Bit of a leg on that one, eh?” he asked, trying for a smile, but she wasn’t looking at him. 

Her shoulders shrugged up and down and she made a face. “Bit angry. Bit bored. Caravan holidays are boring,” she explained, or he thought that was what she said since she was still mumbling. 

Liam looked around, squinting at the sun and shrugged himself. “I’m on holiday too. I don’t think it’s too boring here.” He would have prefered boring when it came down to it. He might not regret as much of the night before as he did. “Could have a kick about? You and me right?” He wasn’t that great at football, but he could keep up with a preteen girl, right?

“Oi!” Liam knew the slight shove was coming before it did, which probably said something about his relationship with Louis, but he still stumbled some. “Where’s my breakfast gone to?” 

The girl, who up until two seconds ago had been intently staring at her feet, jerked her head up at the sound of Louis’ voice and Liam watched her eyes go wide. “Oh my god.” 

It was enough to draw Louis’ attention from where his fingers were digging into Liam’s kidneys and bring out that bright smile that Liam had only ever seen with fans. “‘Allo.” He waved and the poor girl nearly melted into a pool of good. “I’m Louis, this is - “ 

“Liam Payne!” She immediately clapped her hand over her mouth at the shout, coloring pink and shaking her head. “I’m dreaming.” 

“Hardly,” Liam said. “Louis, this is… what was your name?” 

The girl was bouncing now, vibrating with energy. Liam’s fans got excited, but there weren’t enough of them for him to bump into randomly, but Louis, well Louis had fans all over. Even at random places as off the beaten track as this one. “I love you. I mean, your music. I mean, that wasn’t the question, was it?” She was talking directly to Louis, but then turned to Liam. “Not that I don’t, I mean I don’t listen to your stuff, but you’re great. You are. My best mate, she’s a huge fan,” she babbled, turning back to Louis. “But you. I mean. You. Wait. what did you ask?” 

Louis just grinned. “Your name, love. What’s your name?” 

“Josie. And I am being a total loser.” 

Louis chuckled and shook his head, snagging her football and rolling it under his feet with ease. “Hardly a loser. Liam, he’s a loser. You’re great.” 

“Hey!” 

“Hush, Liam,” Louis said with a wave of his hand, but he winked over his shoulder at Liam, brushing the hurt away almost immediately. Louis didn’t really mean it. It was simply how he played, how he made others feel more on their level. It was how he’d always done. “So, what’s got you so mopey that you’re hanging out with Liam?” 

“It’s just… boring. Here. It’s boring.” Louis looked past the girl, taking it in, and Liam didn’t have to ask what Louis was thinking. He got it. 

“Maybe a bit.” 

“But it’s not now. My mates, they’ll never believe I met you. Both of you. This makes the whole stupid trip better. Not that you care, I mean, it’s just another day for you, right? Right.” Josie was bouncing again, so much that Liam didn’t even feel bad about being tacked on the end of things. It was like something clicked in her head though as she looked between the two of them. “Are you here, together? On holiday together?” 

Liam panicked, but before he could stutter something out, Louis swooped in with the perfect answer. “Sure are. Bit of a holiday before the big tour.” He winked at Josie, who melted all over again. “And it’s always exciting to meet fans. We used to be just like you, you know?” 

“No,” Josie said with a shake of her head. 

“True,” Louis agreed. 

“What about a picture, so you can show all your mates?” Liam interjected, catching that glint in Louis eye like he might have another tease to fling Liam’s way. “Then they’ll have to believe you.” 

Josie’s face went from lit right up like a holiday tree, then back to the sullen face she had when Liam first saw her. “My phone doesn’t have a camera,” she said with sigh, fishing an old Nokia thing out of her pocket. “Mum says it’s too fancy for kids to have one.” 

Liam bit his lip for half a second before digging his phone out of his pocket. “I’ll take it then. And we can post it, so we can tell everyone we met Josie on our trip.” He didn’t even realize how many times he’d said the word ‘we’ until he looked up to see Louis staring at him. Liam could see the gears turn in his head, but couldn’t place what he was considering before Louis was nodding and leaning into the two of them. 

“Let’s do it.” The fan-smile was back as Louis budged in behind Liam and Josie, making a silly face for one of the two snaps, but a bright smile for the second. His hand was warm against Liam’s back where he was bracing himself, probably on his toes even though Liam was crouched to be the same height as Josie. Words didn’t come right away, but Louis saved him again, leaning over his shoulder to press the button to see the photos. 

“That’s a good one, yeah, Jose?” he asked the girl, and Liam had to admit, Louis was right. It was like the old days. They looked comfortable so close together, and their smiles felt real. It was enough to send his mind reeling.

The girl was speaking again, still focused mostly on Louis, about how great the photo was, but Liam could see Louis was a little green around the edges. “Be back in a bit,” he told them both then jetted off around the side of the building. Age was getting even the most dedicated of rockstars, wasn’t it? 

Liam got Josie’s information and chatted with her until her parents waved her away, giving her strange looks for talking to weird men. Hopefully she explained to them who he was instead of leaving them to believe he was some sort of predator. He sent the photo to the email she’d given him, but also posted it on Instagram, tagging her but not Louis in it. PR had told him they wanted him to post more, though he wasn’t sure what they meant by that, he figured this was something. It wasn’t Harry’s weird artsy black and white photos, but it was a start. 

Right as he was about to give up on Louis returning, Liam spotted him headed back his way with Liam’s guitar case in hand. “What’re you doing?” he asked, sitting back on the bench and frowning. 

“Not ready to ride yet.” 

“Because you’ve been sick three times?” 

“Not the point, Liam.” 

“Seems like the point. You’ve brought my guitar.” 

“Well, it’s too boring to just sit here. You’re lucky I didn’t nick that girl’s ball.” He paused though, looking up at Liam. “You did good though. Making her day and all.” 

“Me? She was your fan. She didn’t know who I was until you showed up.” 

Louis scrubbed at his hair and shook his head. “Hardly. Not really...I mean, not the usual type.” Which was true. Louis’ fans tended to be a little rougher around the edges, kids with hair that stuck up like his, shirts that were ripped, and ratty shoes. They were the kind of people naturally drawn to Louis and his attitude. But they weren’t the only ones. Liam knew that first hand. 

“You’re reaching more than that. You heard her. The people out there, they love you.” 

Louis shook his head, busying himself with the guitar case, but Liam noticed he hadn’t done more than unlatch and latch it a few times. “They love the music. I’m just the messenger.” 

“Your pants are awfully tight for being just a messenger,” Liam countered, smirking when Louis looked up at him, which had been his goal all along. “You know that’s not it. It’s more than that,” he said, looking right into Louis’ eyes. 

Louis looked away, back to the case and Liam wracked his brain for how best to describe it, how someone could love the music more because of the person delivering it, how the two were intertwined, but his brain was still hangover fuzzy and mixed up with the photo and the night before. 

“Fuck me.” 

The exclamation jerked Liam out of his own mind, his cheeks going pink as he realized that he had to figure out if it was real or just the Louis in his head pushing the night before to a different level. He blinked at Louis, taking too long to realize what was in his hands. Liam’s notebook. Or well, not really. 

“What?” His voice is a bit higher than he would like it to be, laced with panic. 

“First, you bought a new case for this piece of crap thing,” Louis explained pointing at the guitar, the one Liam had always had. It was always a touch out of tune, but it meant something. 

“I only use it for writing.” 

“God, you sap. Stop distracting me with wanting to tease you for that. Second.” Louis held up the notebook. “I can’t…” It was a rare thing, but Louis seemed at a loss for words. He tapped the notebook against the table for a moment, then got up without another word and headed back for the car, abandoning both the notebook and Liam. 

Liam grabbed his half of the notebook and initially followed Louis but stopped after a few steps across the grass. It was possible, even likely, that seeing the notebook had set Louis off again, too much to deal with. In Liam’s defense, he hadn’t planned on Louis ever seeing it, but it still felt like his fault somehow for pushing too far, by carrying it with him at all. Louis still had the keys if he was angry enough or upset enough or whatever emotion Liam could no longer predict to leave Liam on the curb. Liam would have at least an hour after calling a car to pick him up to figure out what he should have done or said instead.

Like before, just when he was giving up on Louis, Louis appeared, dropping something in Liam’s lap and snagging the notebook out of Liam’s hands to flip through it. 

Liam was ready to accuse Louis of being nosy, but it all fell away when he realized what was in his lap. Where Liam’s half had been stapled neatly in an attempt to be bound back together, Louis’ looked like it was barely holding on, folded in half and wrapped in a rubber band. Louis was obviously going through his, so Liam took that as an invitation to do the same with Louis’ half.

The first page, right where Louis had ripped it, was a page Liam had been missing for ages. It was his first big hit, one they’d written during and about the last trip they’d taken, and right there in the middle of it was where Louis had gotten his tattoo from. “Never change who you are” written in Liam’s handwriting. He looked back at Louis again, who was reading through something chewing on his thumb, and Liam realized how important the placement he’d gotten was. It was the hand he used to hold his microphone, right there, by him, every time he sang, right against the keys every time he played. He had Liam with him, what Liam had said to him in the dark, telling him to always be Liam’s Louis, whispering that his Louis was perfect, Louis always had that with him. Maybe he hadn’t forgotten. Maybe it hadn’t been nothing. Liam was thinking about leaning back there and kissing his Louis senseless when Louis sat up more, leaning forward and putting Liam’s notebook on the center console. He was right there. Liam could kiss him easily from here. 

“How’s this go?” Louis asked instead, tapping the page. 

“Huh?” Liam looked down, seeing that Louis had opened the book to the bits of a song he’d been working on before they’d pulled off the road. “Oh um, simple really,” he said, humming the melody he’d had in his head. 

"Come on, play it for me.” Louis prodded Liam in the shoulder until Liam sat with the guitar, going through the chords to get a feel for them, taking it from the small bits of melody spinning in his head to actual progressions and notes. It’d sound heavier after production, but with just the guitar, it was simple, sweet, and when he sang, the focus was definitely on his voice. It wasn't how he planned, but he liked it.

He started off slow, singing the verse, watching Louis bob his head along. “Faster here,” Louis said, pointing to the middle of the verse. “Peppier. It’s not all sad,” he said and Liam’s fingers faltered on the chords. There was no way Louis didn’t know. It was about him, it was about them, about the tenseness between them, but Louis was still helping him, writing with him. Liam sang it through again, feeling better about the words, singing them right at Louis, pleased to seem him smile at it. 

The second verse was harder to sing though. It was a request, begging to be given the second chance because love was worth it. Louis merely nodded along, making notes where to go faster, where to make the melody show through rather than Liam's voice. 

“It’s slower at the bridge,” Liam explained, singing it out, then looking at Louis. “But I can’t get the words right.” 

Louis hummed, then leaned over Liam’s back writing in different words, making the bridge tie itself up neatly like it should. Liam was sure he’d forgotten how to breathe with the warmth of Louis pressed against his back, unsure of everything but that, that warmth. He smelled like cigarettes and tea and _Louis_ and Liam couldn’t figure out how he could still smell and feel breathless in the same instant. “Play it again,” Louis insisted, and Liam shook himself out of it, singing through the chorus again. Before Liam could sing the bridge, Louis picked it up in his high, perfect voice. It wasn't intentional, but Liam stopped playing halfway through, leaving just Louis’ voice, crisp and clear. 

When he stopped, Liam was nodding, head turned to see his friend’s face, loving that smile there. “You should do that when you sing it, drop out the guitar. It’s better that way actually.” 

Liam mouthed words for a moment, eyes ticking down to Louis’ lips, so close to him with Louis still pressed against his back. “Lou…” Liam hadn’t brought Louis out here to want. The point was to fix things between them, build a bridge they could walk on, something strong with a real foundation. He couldn’t sacrifice that for a kiss, no matter how badly he wanted to in that moment. That wouldn’t last. It might break something they could never repair again. What had happened in the car that first night was wrong, it wasn’t what Liam meant to do, but he wanted Louis now, he wanted him something awful. 

Louis hesitated, licking his lips for a moment, bright blue eyes clearly thinking the same thing that Liam was, at least for a moment. At the same time Liam considered leaning forward, Louis pulled back, grinning in a way that didn’t go to his eyes and patting Liam’s back. “Another hit. Only you could write a song about a stupid boat.” 

Liam had to shake away the haze of want, to keep himself from dragging Louis back with a hand around his wrist. He’d come. Liam could tell it. He’d come if Liam pulled, but Liam wasn’t sure if Louis wanted to or if he’d just give in to what Liam wanted. Was it even fair to try? He’d dumped Louis and Liam wasn’t sure there was something he could do that would take that back. “It’s not about little boats, but the ships. The big ones.” _And you. And the way you displace everything around me._

“You hate boats.” 

“I hate small boats. Turns out the big ones are kinda nice. And you don’t have to fish the whole time or be up at half dawn.” 

Something twitched across Louis’ face, something Liam couldn’t place and Liam had to wonder when that happened. When Louis started having emotions that Liam couldn’t define. "You want a big boat, let's go find a big boat. You've got a map, be navigator."

\---------

Louis had tried his best with the drive for the first hour or so, but even after Liam had crawled in the back to fuss with the guitar, trying out the key change that hypothetically sounded great in Louis' notes, Liam's fidgeting drove him crazy and his own tiredness caught up with him. It wasn't Louis' fault that he normally got the bed during the day to work at night. Their current bed sharing method might have to change to accommodate their new situation, if it were to continue.

He still hadn't expected to fall asleep deeply enough to dream. It was a continuation of his beach dream in the flat, the one that inspired the trip, probably brought on once more by the heat of the glass pressed against his face. He was sweaty in the dream too, trying to hold on to Liam's hand except it kept slipping. Right above them, it looked like it might rain, yet it was all sunshine ahead if they could manage to outrun it together. Louis always had been better at a sprint than Liam, but this time his chest hurt even with Liam pulling him along. Liam was saying something Louis couldn't hear over the thunder, felt only his loosening grip and how he slipped farther away. It wasn't exactly a nightmare, Louis could still catch up if he could just get a deep enough breath, but he had to stay in the dream if he was going to make it. Instead, the dream pulled away, whited out by a flash of sun in his eyes, jolting the rest of the way awake as he tried to understand what Liam, the waking one in the driver's seat, was trying to tell him.

"Ah, fuck, Lou, I'm sorry, but I give up. I've gotten off three different spots and can't find this place." Relief flooded Louis once he understood the context. Lost they could work with, if one could get lost really when you didn't know where you were headed exactly. Before Louis drifted off, they had been on their way to a mini-golf place Louis saw on a little flier in another petrol station, but it was significantly more difficult to navigate the farther they got from Louis' hometown, scribbles on the map obscuring smaller roads. "It might've closed or the map is too old. I'm afraid if I try again, I'm gonna get us lost for good. Van might need a break too." Something under the bonnet shook violently, the thunder in the dream explained, and Louis remembered Mark's advice from the day before. Maybe some cool refreshment for all of them then.

"Oh, um, that's okay." Louis shook himself awake and surveyed their new surroundings. They were probably somewhere in the Midlands, maybe a bit farther south, as they headed roughly back to London in no hurry. It was pretty suburban, and Louis scanned for the closest thing to a main street. "Maybe can find somewhere to eat before we get back on the motorway."

Neither of them was exactly sure where they were on the map, so finding their way to the motorway was a guessing game. While Liam looked for signs at each corner, Louis kept his eye out for some low-cost food. They passed by the town's shopping arcade, a bright red storefront catching Louis' interest, so he urged Liam, "Pull over, pull over."

Liam obliged. Not exactly an amusement park, but if nothing else, they'd get a chance to stretch their legs. It turned out to be an ice cream shop that caught Louis' interest, like something pulled out of Grease and American Graffiti squeezed in between staid brick fronts for electronics repair and an optician.

"It's not exactly dinner," Louis said, considering the alternatives farther down the plaza, but it seemed like the right thing to cap off their road trip.

"It's like dinner and entertainment combined. Cost savings, really," Liam answered with a smile. With the way their luck had been going and with Liam smiling at him like that, someone was going to ask if they were on a date and Louis had no idea how to answer.

He was normally better at playing it by ear, yet this seemed heavier. Liam hadn't really dated anyone during the time they lived together, at least as far as Louis knew, but maybe that was due to the lack of privacy. Or he had and hidden it from Louis, which didn't make much sense but more so than the idea Liam had been nursing a thing for Louis all along. If that were the case, Liam would have made a move ages ago. Living it now, Louis wasn't sure why he hadn't made a move for Liam earlier. For a second, Louis considered asking before going in, if they were something more now, but then Liam grabbed a hold of his hand and pulled him towards the shop door. It was nothing like Louis' dream. Liam's grip was firm and warm and very date-like indeed.

The inside was even more bright and stylized, neon reflected in mirror to make the the small space appear larger. Louis' attention was divided between the glass case to his left with a dozen pastel colored flavors of ice cream waiting to be tried and an old upright piano tucked next to the window on his right. It was probably non-functioning, for decoration primarily, but Louis had never been one to resist a public piano. If he tried it and it didn't work, no harm done, and it postponed Louis having to decide between a scoop or milkshake. They really should split to save money, but he was not going two straws with Liam. There was a line for how coupley a not-a-couple-maybe should act.

With Liam concentrating on the topping choices, Louis fell back and tapped one of the keys, still facing out and using his hands behind his back. The piano clinked in response. Not exactly in tune, but functioning nonetheless. It's not like there was a way to play the piano without getting caught, something Louis had learned first at school and then refreshed the lesson at a few choice London hotel lobbies. Sometimes, though, if you played something nice and inoffensive enough, they might let you off with a stern look. It also never failed to shock Liam, Louis' favorite hobby.

Louis turned to face the piano, but didn't sit down, not wanting to draw attention too quickly. Without thinking, he played the intro for Angels, about as inoffensive as you could get. He had learned the song for his first recital and it was almost habit to start with it when he warmed up at home. Looking over his shoulder, Louis watched Liam's head pop up puppy-like, hearing the music, and Liam immediately giggled. No one was running across the shop to tackle Louis down yet, so he flourished a little, quietly switching from humming to singing.

By the end of the chorus, Liam joined him and at the high end of the keys, took over with the intro to We Found Love. Louis remembered how obsessed Liam had been with learning at least the riff the very first day it came on the radio. It was a good balance, the way Liam pulled Louis along into new music while Louis made sure Liam was grounded in the classics. Louis pulled out the bench and sat down so he could play properly as Liam sang. Louis darted another look around to see the few other patrons smiling so things were going well so far. It was a bit of a dare when he began the second verse, knowing Liam wouldn't remember the words without cheating. With Liam at a loss, he moved into The Fray, but soon Liam sat next to him and shoved at his side.

"All these slow songs," Liam teased. Louis stuck his tongue out and kept playing. In turn, Liam pulled the beanie off and threw it on top of the piano. If Liam wanted to look at Louis' awful hat hair, that was his business and Louis concentrated on the song. They were so far into their own world of music and bickering, they didn't see a young girl, maybe a bit older than the twins, approach them until she was right in front of them.

"Do 'Call Me Maybe,'" she said, looking back at her dad for approval. "Please." Louis laughed, but he couldn't pretend he didn't know it.

"Sure, love, did you want to sing?" She shook her head and scurried back to her dad at their table. So Louis and Liam sung it back and forth to each other, fighting to keep a straight face. They certainly hadn't just met, but Louis felt crazy all the same. Despite running away so suddenly, the girl did seem to be enjoying it, shaking and dancing. Nearing the song's end, her dad picked her up and brought her over. She had another request, this time accompanied by carefully dropping a pound note in Louis' hat. Louis hadn't meant to sell out to the pop music machine, yet apparently here they were.

After that song, an older man in an apron approached, presumably the owner, and Louis braced to be kicked out, verbally only he hoped. Busking certainly hadn't been Louis' intention when he sat down, but a working musician can't afford to tell someone not to give them money. Instead, the owner had a request of his own. Fortunately, Liam had learned the words to Stand By Me during an R&B classics Youtube cover binge last fall and the chords were simple enough to riff off for Louis.

The girl waited impatiently for the slow song to be over before asking for another boy band song. Five pounds in, her dad cut her off but before leaving, she approached Louis solemnly. "I'm going to marry him," she said, point to Liam.

Liam blanched as her dad shook his head, already aware of the trouble he had on his hands. Liam carefully crafted an answer as Louis gave into a fit of giggles. "Our diary's a bit full at the moment, but how about I pencil in a date for us in fifteen years and we'll revisit that then if you're still interested."

Her nose scrunched up immediately. "No, you'll be old then." Her dad scooped her up to leave, but she continued to look at the two of them incredulously as they exited.

Louis elbowed Liam in the side. "I'll still like you when you're old." There was a sincerity to it that crept in unexpectedly.

"Yeah, only because you'll be old then too and have no other options." It wasn't the end of their impromptu set though, as a group of teenage girls that had up to now been hiding in the back corner, sent a representative to request a Green Day song and drop some cash their way. Groups came and went over an hour or so, Liam crooned Sinatra by way of Bublé for an older couple, the owner had a few extra requests of his own (Louis mumbled his way over a good chunk of the words of American Pie, but it went alright). They were having fun and the hat held more in tips than Louis saw at a typical cover band gig in London. Perhaps a side effect when people weren't holding on to their money for another pint.

The owner didn't pay for any of his songs obviously, kind enough to not simply kick them out the door in the first place, but he did offer them each a treat on the house. Louis was thrilled to have a milkshake of his very own, done in a proper parfait glass and everything. Their requests had more or less dried up, but Louis didn't really want the magic to break. He instead putzed around with a riff that matched the chords of the song from the night before and Liam nodded in approval, immediately catching onto how the two fit together. The way Louis felt more creative, in a drive to impress Liam, didn't exactly make sense, yet just the same, everything was a little better when Liam was proud of him.

The remaining patrons weren't as interested in an original, particularly with no one singing along, so they finally stopped to enjoy their ice cream and count their earnings. Louis tucked it into the now almost empty birthday envelope. "Not exactly a windfall, but it could probably cover most of a hotel night if we found somewhere close to the motorway."

Liam considered it, visibly weighing the options. "It's still early enough we could make it to London before too late, but I did see a Travelodge when we first turned off. I'm sure I can find the way back." Louis rolled his eyes. "Wait, shit, I only got Harry to cover today, I didn't ask about tomorrow. I never even called work to explain."

"Liam, calm down. You don't get let go for missing one day of work after a year and a half of perfect attendance. You have to repeatedly miss shifts last minute for that. I'm kind of the expert on it." Louis sucked down the last of his milkshake, intentionally making obnoxious noises that would distract Liam from the obvious.

"Louis, why aren't you worried about your shifts?" Liam stared down at his spoon while he waited for Louis to prepare an answer, not that he had a good one to give.

"You know why. I'm sorry." Yesterday had held enough self-pity for a long while and Louis really didn't want to pile more on now. He shrugged weakly with nothing else to say.

"It'll work out, and hey, tomorrow's open mic night and we can show off the new stuff. But if you don't have another paycheck coming in, we really shouldn't spend money on a hotel," Liam petered off for a moment, considering again. "Then again, probably not safe to drive any longer today, with how tired we are, right?"

"Yeah, exactly. The van needs a night off, too." Louis knew Liam was right the first time. They should head home, save the money, but Louis was greedy for one more night of Liam away from everyone. The idea of a full bed and water pressure made it all the more irresistible. He pushed away the concern that a bigger bed would mean not sleeping on top of each other like normal, hoping instead that Liam would stay close through the night anyway.

\-----------

"You're a shit navigator." But they both laughed. Liam had been tracking the exits, but Louis had ended up the leader of this trip, like always.

After the song, something happened. Louis had come back from their final stop at a petrol station with a drink for Liam and his favorite sweets, then loaded them back into the car. They rolled the windows down and let the cool air blow through their hair. Louis turned up the music when the song was worth singing along with and exactly like the first time they’d done this, it was like they made sense. Liam didn’t want to read too much into it, to take too much away from it, but it felt like...it felt like things were better. 

It's not like everything had worked out, they hadn't discussed anything about last night or the nights years ago, but it was like a truce. Liam almost felt something like satisfaction and he fished out his package of cigarettes for a smoke, out of relaxation instead of stress for the first time in days, or maybe even longer. 

"Fuck." 

It was really hard for Liam to keep his mind off the night before if Louis' random expletives were going to keep reminding him, drawing him back to that moment and how it could have been, but the swerving of the car snapped him out of it. He jerked his eyes up and gripped the handle on the door with his free hand. “What the hell!” 

“Gimme.” Louis’ hand was reaching across and his eyes clearly were not on the road, but Liam figured out what he wanted too quickly. He’d gotten comfortable, forgotten what was hidden in his pocket. He pulled the lighter out of the way in the last second. 

“I can light you one. Just watch the road.” Anything to keep Louis away from the lighter. He shouldn’t have brought it, but it was habit more than anything else. 

"Don't want a cigarette." Well, that was almost never true. "Give me the lighter."

"No." Liam threw the cigarette out the window and went to burying the lighter in the bottom of his bag, but Louis wailed punches on him from above and he could hear the rubber on the road from the smaller swerves each time. “You’re going to get us killed!” 

“Hardly. What’s to hit out here? A cow?” Louis rolled his eyes and made a lunge at the bag, the car going with him. It reminded Liam of Loki when he got it in his head that he could eat some sort of people food a person had and would practically climb them for it. 

"I'm not giving it to you." Liam knew that all but confirmed what it was, yet it was easier than saying it out loud. 

"Any other artifacts I should know about from your shrine to me?" Was the small box Liam left their place with really a shrine? If not to Louis, then of the past and who he used to be? Who they used to be? He didn't think he was that different. "I thought it was lost. Looked for it after you left."

Liam shot Louis a look before he even realized he’d done it. How could Louis think he’d forget a gift like that? “I remembered to take the important stuff.” 

And right there, in that sentence, Liam knew he’d stepped into it. He’d opened the door, laid it all out for Louis to shoot holes in it, turn around with a dark jab. It wasn’t even a hard shot. Louis made a face, sucking at his teeth for a moment, making Liam wait. But as always, Louis surprised him. 

"Is that where my favorite mug went to, too?"

"No, you broke that the night after you played Roundhouse."

"I thought so, but it was worth a try."

The dust settled, not uncomfortable, but quiet between them. Leaving a fight like that untouched, that was a significant olive branch if Liam had ever seen one.

As they took the sliproad for Somerset, Liam actually thought for the first time this trip would be fun.

\---------

"That song was a mess and not nearly ready," Louis muttered as soon as he was far away enough from the mic before hopping neatly off the pub stage. "I can't believe you got me to play it in public."

Nothing could touch Liam's wide smile though, not even Louis' pessimism. "We were great, the song is great. And it's an open mic, no one expects perfection."

Liam might say that, but Louis knew there would be meticulous changes before they ever recorded it to send anywhere. That was okay, Liam deserved perfection. "Question is, who has dibs on it as a demo?"

"How about we share it until one of us gets signed, okay?" They had gotten far enough from the stage now, out of the way of the emcee calling up the next act. Louis stopped walking to appreciate Liam's smile better, knowing that was back in Liam's mind as a possibility, his hope returned. Louis was still caught in that moment when Harry folded over his shoulder, saying something like congratulations, but not exactly intelligible in this position.

"Proud mum, he is, recorded the whole thing," Zayn said as he approached more sedately and with a subtle, but still approving, smirk. Harry shoved off so that other friends could come by and slap Louis and Liam both on the shoulder, each adding their own praise. These were all friends who had been dragged to plenty of performances before, so there must have been something about this song that really did stand out. The blonde lad Liam had borrowed a guitar from, not expecting to play tonight nor going to drag his guitar half a mile through the rain for no reason, wormed his way to the front to get his guitar back. The look of relief on his face was palpable.

"He wasn't gonna run off with it or smash it on the amp," Louis said as Liam handed it over. "Liam's an honest one."

"Yeah, well, Niall's a nervous one," he joked, although his red cheeks belied how true it was anyway. "Like putting your livelihood in someone's hands. I don't know what I was thinking, trustworthy faces or something." Niall did seem relieved once his baby was back in his arms, more comfortable with a guitar on than without. Louis couldn't blame him though; he knew exactly how terrifying it was to put your music, your life, in someone else's hands. It was quite the trust fall indeed.

Niall had done an admirable job himself earlier, his turn wrapping up right after Louis and Liam got there. Louis had only heard him play 'Let Her Go', but his technical skill on the solos was far beyond Louis or even Liam's ability with the guitar. Louis couldn't exactly imagine writing a song with him, but he could imagine trusting Niall enough to want to write a song for him, the way Liam did with the songs he sold. That skill could give him so much greater freedom in chord changes and riffs.

The crowd around them slowly parted, breaking off to the loos or back to the booth or to the dartboard, letting Louis get up next to the bar. The two sets of shots they'd each downed upon arrival had settled enough that he was ready for a beer. Their bartender tonight was the same Irish guy that had been there most Open Nights for the past year. "Opening a tab?" he asked Louis, with an eyebrow raised and a hand waiting for Louis' prepaid card. There had maybe been a bad week or two where Louis had tried to run up a tab over multiple days and apparently a strong memory is an important skill in bartending.

"S'pose the homecoming party portion of the evening is complete, so it's time to start paying for me own drinks now." It really had felt like a homecoming party when they'd arrived, surrounded by friends utterly clueless as to what had happened other than Harry's exclusive scoop that Liam had called out of work and that neither of them had been answering texts. Louis didn't know whether Liam would ever confide the truth to any of their friends there, but he planned on keeping his oath of secrecy. Sharing a secret could be special and Louis found himself wanting more and more parts of Liam that were his alone.

"Homecoming? Figured it was a going away party and they were this excited to get rid of you." A good memory and a sense of humor apparently. But it was said with a warm smile, a kind of friendly taking the piss out of each other Louis hadn't realized they'd reached.

"Don't think we're going anywhere for a good while yet." It was going to take some time yet for Louis not to feel pride every time he thought that.

"Yeah, it wouldn't be the same without you or Liam, would it?" A strange look passed over the bartender's face and he ducked to get Louis' beer, as sheepishly as a six foot something hulk the width of two Louises could do anything sheepishly. Louis didn't have a chance to turn around to see who put that look there before he felt a hand on his shoulder, unusually companionable.

The owner of the pub was only recognizable to Louis as the grumpy spectre in the back corner on the slow nights, his voice only heard when kicking someone out. But tonight he approached the bar next to Louis and said simply, "It was good." More impressively, he addressed the bartender (by his first name, Niall, which Louis had never heard, only vaguely knowing he was called Bressie to his friends and never feeling familiar enough to use the nickname himself) and gave him a nod, a secret code Louis could observe but not understand. He was still in shock enough from the praise as the day in and out of open mics and weekend cover bands had made the owner a pretty hard guy to impress. In a way, Louis took those few words more seriously than all the applause. Even though he really liked the applause.

Niall, Bressie, _the bartender_ waited until the owner walked away to slide the pint over to Louis. "Guess not paying for this round either, on the house, but I'll hold on to this for the next one, mate," Louis' card still held hostage and slid into the register. He wasn't wrong so Louis laughed good naturedly and drank enough of his beer to keep from spilling on the way back to their booth.

Heading straight back to the booth without a stop at the bar meant Liam had been pushed to the middle already, slid between Harry and Zayn on one side and Niall and a few others on the other. It occurred to Louis he now knew two Nialls. Did all Irish Nialls (as if there were any not Irish Nialls) know each other? Rather than take a seat at the end or at least wait for anyone to stand up to move, Louis slid his beer next to Liam and scooted across laps to his rightful place. There were grumbles under him and a cheeky pinch from Harry, but Liam pulled him over the last of them and kept his arm around Louis' shoulders long after. Crammed between their friends, Louis felt the last flicker of his anger wisp away. A few free beers were great, yet nothing compared to Liam's eyes lighting up at him or the warmth of their sides pressed together. Louis couldn't promise there wouldn't be a bit of new anger when rent came due again next week, but sometimes things had to happen the way they had to happen.

Everyone was loud and talking over each other so Louis tuned out, instead concentrating on listening to the girl who had gone up after them, with a soulful voice and eyes to match even as they were obscured by heavy false lashes. The song was off the Radio 1 dance playlist, not his usual style, except she had slowed it down into something Louis quite liked. His head rested against the back of the booth, occasionally lolling onto Liam's shoulder before jostling back off each time Liam laughed, and Louis could feel sleep creeping up on him. Liam had napped through roadworks and traffic jams as Louis drove the final stretch.

The original plan, as unplanned as it was, was to make it home before dark, until one more adventure distracted them, a mini-golf attraction visible from the road, calling to them like fate. Louis finished the drive barefoot and he could still feel bits of sand in his shoes now, from running into the traps to rescue their many lost balls. Golf wasn't really Louis' game, it turned out, but Liam was thrilled with each success and if Louis really needed a win so bad, all he had to do was plan a lads' night go-karting.

Because of that last stop, it was well into twilight by the time they hit the city and a steady rain slowed the roads into a sea of red lights, while also taking the edge off the heat. Louis was half tempted to roll down the window to enhance the cooling effect, and a bit of a shower besides. Liam didn't seem to mind his stink right now, but that was only because Liam's was just as bad and the overall stale bar smell, the hint of smoke from years gone by around the edges, was worse than either of them.

Or maybe the bar smell didn't cover it entirely because Zayn choked comedically when he pulled Louis' arm up and around him in an effort to wake him and pull him up, not that Louis had really been asleep. "Oi, only you could kip in the middle of a bar. Get up, I need you for something."

Louis grumbled the way out, eyes still stubbornly closed. "I'd think you could manage taking a piss by yourself by now. Or did you all do more shots without me?" Louis thought to reach out to pull Liam with him, but they should be able to spend a few minutes apart after days locked in a car together. There was a bit of magic to it though, and Louis wasn't sure how long a parting it would take to break it.

"No, it's to do with the next act. C'mon." It was weird for Zayn to be so openly anxious about something, so Louis stopped fighting and headed to one of the high tops in front of the stage. "Not there, like, keep going." Zayn pushed at Louis' back until they were tucked into a corner with Louis slightly blocking the sight line between Zayn and the stage.

"I really think we would have seen better from over there," Zayn nudged Louis over a few more inches, now only offering partial cover, "really, what the fuck?"

With a pained sigh and his eyes still focused on the girls setting up on stage, Zayn explained, "So there's this girl who I kind of fancy from her videos online, and I found out she's local so I suggested she come here, and she did. Wait til you fucking hear her, she's amazing."

"Right, so that still doesn't explain the hiding in plain sight." Louis tried to peek over his shoulder to figure out which one had Zayn acting weird, but was pulled right back around.

"That would make it weird, like I'm stalking her or something. It needs to happen natural, spontaneous or something." Right then, Louis had the urge to confide about where spontaneous had taken him, but then Zayn kept on, "and if I tell her I was the one that told her to come and all that, well, talking to death would ruin it, yeah? Things like this are supposed to just happen."

Louis couldn't argue, sometimes things had to happen how they had to happen, yet it still didn't sit right. "Do you think it's any different between two lads?"

Zayn thought for a moment. "Can't say I'd really know for sure, but you'd figure even more so, right? What guy wants to talk about their feelings? It's different, like, when you're writing, but I don't know anyone that enjoys a 'so what are we doing?' chat." He trailed off as the song began and now Louis was nothing but a wall to hide behind for the next five minutes. Louis nodded along with the advice anyway, mulling it over. It was true, that Louis could write in a song anything he needed to say to Liam or ask of him. With the way they were collaborating lately, it seemed reasonable that Liam knew exactly how he felt without ever having to outright say a word.

Louis was left alone with his thoughts longer than expected as a clever segue turned one song per act into an extra-long mashup. By the time Louis and Zayn headed back to the booth, Zayn throwing careful glances backwards, just disinterested enough to take the edge off eager, it was mostly a mess of left behind chips and glasses. Their group had largely migrated outside into the beer garden, the rain let up and leaving something almost like a chill in its wake.

Zayn nudged Louis as to explain he was going to go smoke alone, moody and available, until the girl he was all worked up about came outside. Liam was at one of the wrought-iron tables wrapped up in a conversation with someone, a girl who hung out here fairly often. Louis couldn't figure out how he could lug a third chair over to the table while appearing cool and casual so he joined Harry and Niall's conversation instead.

"New to town, then?" Harry asked, after finally coming to the end of his very long, meandering 'how I got to London' story that Louis had memorized except for the bits that changed with every telling. It was a shame they hadn't gotten outside earlier as he liked to call him out on those and possibly derail the whole thing into an earlier ending.

"First time trying to live down here at least. Staying with an old friend, til I find a job and a place. Works here, how I found out about the open mic." Louis _knew_ the Nialls knew each other. "Not my first time in London though, concerts and matches and the like."

Louis hadn't said much of anything yet, but he was neatly pushed out of the conversation as soon as Harry and Niall realized they'd both seen The Eagles at the same time and we're on a classic rock tangent that was never really Louis' place. His attention kept getting pulled to Liam anyway, how the girl had her hand on Liam's knee, but Liam's smile was a bit flat. Louis turned a lighter in his pocket as he studied Liam's reactions, the conversation inaudible from this distance with the other exchanges around them.

It was a proper polished steel thing. Louis had never bought anything fancier than a disposable one before, but it had been in the pawn shop near their hotel their last morning and Louis had snuck over after getting some breakfast. It had cost more than he'd expected, the last of the birthday money, yet in that moment, he had all the faith that they'd earn more. Not only shiny, it was engraved too, like the watches Liam looked at in shop windows. It wasn't a Rolex or anything, but hopefully Liam would still like it as a present to remember their weekend. Just holding it gave Louis butterflies, like he was about to ask Liam to go steady and wear his pin. The weight of it felt serious, something Louis was never that good at.

Louis redoubled his efforts to pay attention to Harry and Niall, but he still had nothing to add, now onto the Fleetwood Mac album they'd most like to see live. Zayn's play hard to get techniques had worked tonight at least and he was talking very quietly and closely with the girl he had his eyes on earlier. There were other groups he could join or go back and get that next beer, but then Liam came up from behind him with a hug.

"What happened with the girl you were talking to?" Louis asked, feigning vague interest, but he was unfairly relieved when Liam shrugged. Of course, it was possible the Liam wasn't into that girl in particularly, or it never was really clear if Liam was ever into girls, but it still sent a dangerous possessive thrill through Louis, something terrifyingly boyfriend-like. Louis was just so much more comfortable with Liam around, tangenting the conversation back to the modern era with the smallest bit of effort.

There were a few additional trips to the bar before the night was over, and eventually Zayn rejoined the group, number in hand, as they closed the place down, bemoaning the closed kitchen and those with data checking phones for a kebab place still open. "We'd have to find a place special for Harold anyway. None of the pub grub would pass his healthy eating 'my body is a temple' standards."

"S'not true," Harry argued. "They have salads and things. Think they even have a hummus wrap or something."

"No one orders a salad in a pub, unless maybe it's one of those with a bunch of fried stuff on top, which then, isn't healthy. If it was healthy, it would ruin the whole point of pub food." Louis grabbed any menu in sight and tossed them onto the booth on the other side of the wall. He was not going to lose this fight by someone providing evidence.

Liam made the mistake of interjecting and Louis cut him off before even three words were out. "If you choose the wrong side in this, I swear you will sleep on the couch. Don't test me, Liam."

Liam looked comedically dejected, but then started again. "No, I'll be good. I promise, I'll be good Lou, but Harry's got -"

"That still sounds like siding against me, Liam," Louis tutted.

Zayn broke the flow of their silly bickering to ask, "Do you even have a couch?"

"No," Louis answered, quick with a solution, "So I'll make him sleep on your couch."

"Contrary to prior experience, my couch is not a bedroom."

Liam had a talent for making things worse on himself in arguments like this. "Our whole place is a bedroom, one bed." The alcohol could have been a factor as Liam mumbled into Louis' shoulder, "One bed to share."

Louis huffed. "I'm not sharing with a traitor. You'll sleep on the floor then." Liam's pout in response was pitiful and while Louis never had any plans of following through over such trumped up charges, it wasn't hard to see himself losing a lot more roommate arguments to that pout.

\--------

And it continued like that, Louis didn't pick fights and Liam tried to prove to Louis that he did remember. Liam reacted with nothing but smiles when people came up to them (although Louis did poke fun at how many nans in Weston Super Mare were a fan of his); he wasn't secretive or shameful. There were emails from work, but he wasn't sure if they were happy with this particular publicity, so he ignored them. It was something he could deal with later. For now, Liam tried his best to be fearless, and he had forgotten how much easier it was to be fearless with Louis around.

The hotel they booked themselves into was nice, quiet in that coastal way things were, with wide decks and a sunroom that opened to the sea. The owners didn’t mind them puttering around since it was the end of the busy season, spreading out across the comfy chairs with Liam’s guitar and their busted notebooks. They were supposedly writing, but really, they were just messing around, drinking too much tea and playing songs that were long forgotten. It was like going back in time, like they were placing the necessary bricks of the bridge that Liam hoped they could build. This was what they wanted, right? His people, Louis’ people, the fans. They wanted them to be this way, better together. 

It was that thought that had him posting the picture he took one afternoon. The sun setting out of the way, the shadows hitting Louis, feet propped up, windows behind him, guitar in his lap. Liam even put one of the black and white filters on it like Harry would, just for kicks. It was a perfect sort of thing. Enough to get him to turn his phone off after. 

And things were better. Liam touched Louis freely during the day, hugs and even hand holding, though it had been terrifying at first. Nothing too serious, enough that it was there. Something that Liam was desperate to hold on to, but was worried if he gripped too tightly he’d lose it completely. It wasn’t the same when they went to bed though. They shared one bed with a no man's land between them, both curled to the edge.

The coastal town gave them enough to do to be distracted when they needed it: wandering out the Grand Pier, ducking in shops and cafes there and the town over, seeing the sights. Family vacations were ending, the nights cooler, but that didn’t stop them. It was a pretty lovely few days, and Liam felt better for it. Refreshed almost. They’d even booked a day trip for the next day on one of the restored boats that docked off the Clevedon Pier. 

They’d left the guitar and the mess of tea cups in the lobby, headed for the water right outside the B&B. Louis hadn’t worn shoes in what felt like two days and Liam kicked out of his once they hit the sand. The water wasn’t much to look at, not great for swimming, but there was still something refreshing about it, the ebb and flow of the waves, the breeze that smelled of salt water. It was easy for Liam to lose track of time, the lull of the waves making the air between them easy. 

“Think those are islands out there?” he said, squinting at the black marks on the horizon, out in the water. 

Louis didn’t even look up from where he was poking at a shell in the sand. “No.” 

“Could be though, I mean, aren’t the waters full of islands with buried treasure?” Liam squinted again, sure that one of the spots wasn’t moving. 

“And just like how the moors aren’t full of fairies, there aren’t pirates in every bit of ocean.” Louis straightened up and squinted the same way. “Those are boats, you donut.” 

“Like the navy?” 

Louis rolled his eyes and pushed at Liam’s arm. “Or catered ferries and trash barges. The navy is likely off somewhere important.” 

Liam made a face. “Could be important here.”

“Or not.” Louis’ whole head moved with his eye roll. “Look, we’re going on the boat tomorrow. You’ll see.” 

“You don’t always have to be right,” Liam pointed out. 

Louis scoffed. “Except I am always right.” 

“Well, noooo-.” Liam drew out the word, but only just missed the flurry of playful punches Louis responded with. Before long Louis was on top of him and Liam was trying to hold his hands to keep the tickles and pokes at bay. 

When Liam finally cried uncle, Louis didn’t move, the two of them sitting there catching their breaths, Liam’s hand still curled around Louis’ wrist. Sure that Louis wouldn’t start in again, Liam loosened his grip and let his thumb run over the skin beneath it. He didn’t have to look down to know what he was doing. He knew what words were tattooed there, under his touches. It was insane to think that something so natural would draw him to that point between them. Had Louis thought of all the nights they’d laid like this when he got the words added to his skin? Liam didn’t think there was any way he could even ask that question, despite it being on the tip of his tongue. 

As if sensing that the moment had changed, Louis tugged his hand away, rolling off Liam to sit next to him, knees pulled up with his elbows resting on them. There was sand in his hair, all over his hoodie. Louis didn’t seem to notice or care. Liam waited, expecting Louis to speak, but he didn’t until Liam sat up and mimicked his pose. 

“What’re we even doing, Li?” The words were strained, like they hurt to say. 

Liam looked off towards the water, thinking of the boats in his song and shrugged his shoulders. “Sitting?” he offered, but he didn’t need the look Louis shot him to know that wasn’t the question that was being asked. Liam hesitated. He’d hoped Louis would blow it off like he had the time before, but apparently not, which meant Liam had to find a way to put a feeling into words. “No idea. Didn’t really have a plan. Thought… well, I thought it might go how it did last time.” 

Louis scoffed, snorting through his nose. “Went bloody awful last time. Van broke down. We got lost an insane amount of times.”

“True, but that wasn’t all bad,” Liam said, trying to spin things back to the laughter they’d had mere moments ago. 

Louis sighed, looking up at the sky and holding on to that hurt look he’d had moments before. “‘Cept it changed everything between us. And I...I was stupid. I thought. I… well, you know.” 

That had Liam looking back at Louis, watching him closely. “No, what?” 

Louis looked pained, running his hands over his hair and shaking sand all over them. “You know what happened. You know how I felt. And you threw it away.” 

Liam shook his head. “You know I felt the same way.” How could Louis not know that? Hadn’t it been clear in every one of his actions? In the way he looked at Louis, worshiped everything about him… 

“No. You didn’t.” Louis stood up, brushing sand off himself even if it was a pointless motion. There was sand all over them. It would never go away. Liam would probably be finding it in his hair for weeks. 

“I did,” he insisted, standing up with Louis, reaching for him, but Louis was quick and ducked out of the touch. 

“No. You didn’t. If you did you wouldn’t have left. You would have said something. You wouldn’t have…” Liam tensed at the words when Louis trailed off, not sure he’d ever looked at the situation like that. Sure, he’d run, he’d had a chance and he took it, but Louis had shouted at him on the way out. Had Louis really thought that Liam didn’t care at all? He opened his mouth to say something, but Louis continued. 

“You broke my heart. You broke me.” 

Liam didn’t know how to deal with that. He didn’t know how to say something in response to such an admission. Louis was never vulnerable, never open about his feelings, but here he was, waiting on Liam to say something. 

“I…” 

And Liam had nothing. Not a word. 

Louis shook his head, sending sand flying again. “Thought so.” 

“Louis. Stop.” Liam didn’t want his silence to be an answer. He wanted to say something, anything, to get Louis to stay, to listen, but the words were harder to put to emotions, like a song that had a melody and a feel, but the lyrics never aligned themselves in the right order.

“What?” Louis put his hands on his hips and glared at Liam. “What are you going to say?” 

“I’m sorry? For that. For hurting you. For not being there?”

“Too little, too late,” Louis said with a roll of his eyes. “I’m not looking for an apology.”

Liam got up, dusting at his jeans and shook his head. “It’s not though. Too late, I mean. Look at the past few days, they’ve been fine, we’ve been....” Good together, almost like before. If they could cross this bridge together, things could be so much more than fine. 

Louis looked away, running his fingers through his hair and tugging at it. “So? It’s all about the creative drive, right? Writing songs is safe.” 

“No, it’s not.” Liam knew that, deep down. It had never been safe. It wasn’t the first time either. Hadn’t that been what brought them together. “You know it’s not. You know that’s when I… you know that’s when it happened.” 

“When what happened, Payno?” Louis rolled his eyes. “When I got into your pants? Sure fine, whatever. Chasing orgasms like chasing fame. Whatever. It’s not like any of it was real, what you felt, what you said..” 

“You can't tell me how I felt then or how I feel now, especially when you can't even speak for yourself. How can I believe what you’re telling me now if everything before, in songs, wasn't real? Telling me _now_ , after all this time,that you what? You loved me? You couldn’t say it then.” 

“Not like you could either. Then again with the way you left, maybe you just didn’t.” Louis’ voice was louder, shriller. 

“How was I supposed to say it? Shout it at you when you were shouting at me?” Liam’s voice was louder than he expected as well, but he didn’t back down from it. Maybe it was good to finally say what he’d felt for all those years. “You never gave me a chance!” 

“Would have been better than leaving without trying!” A couple walking by slowed down, listening in and giving them those looks that happy couples gave couples that fought. Liam glared at them, too tired, too raw to deal with their pity. It must have shown in Liam’s face, but it was enough to quiet Louis, and he looked at his feet for a moment. When he spoke again his voice was calmer. “I didn’t love you.” 

Liam threw his hands up in the air. “Then I don’t see how I’m to blame for this. For hurting you when you didn’t even care about me.” It hurt to hear, to know that all the hot and cold from Louis for the entire trip, for years, was because he’d never felt anything for Liam at all. 

“Shut up,” Louis said, shaking his head. “That’s not what I mean. I mean I didn’t _just_ love you.” He bit his lip and looked away. “I mean I was in love with you.” 

Liam’s entire world ground to a halt, looking at Louis like he’d grown a second head. Those words had never been said, not even at the best of times or in the midst of a fight at the worst of them. “You’re…I was...I was too.” 

Louis turned away, arms around himself. “Hardly matters now, does it?” 

“Maybe.” Liam wanted it to matter. He wanted so much more. He wanted Louis to still be in love with him. Like he was with Louis, like he’d never stopped being. Liam reached for Louis, a hand on his arm, pulling him closer, like that might fix things. Didn’t it make sense that they were both so upset about this because they felt the same way? Wasn’t that the case? Liam leaned in to kiss Louis to show in, rekindle that feeling they’d had in the car, drunk and needy, but not needy for anyone, needy for each other. 

“No,” Louis said with a heavy sigh and a hand against Liam’s chest, halting all of it before it could start. “It’s all in the past now. We can be friends. Like you said, we're fine now. Friends is fine.” 

Liam stopped, only because he knew he should, not because he wanted to. Friends was fine, sure, but it wasn’t _fine_. It wasn’t what he wanted, his own words turned against him. He wanted his Louis back, the one who made him feel like he could rule the world. Reality crashed down on him as the final pieces fell into place. He couldn’t have that. He could only have Louis as his friend. It would have to be enough. “Yeah, fine,” Liam murmured, letting go of Louis and shoving his hands in his pockets to keep from going against that. 

Louis looked back at Liam once, then away again, pushing at his hair which looked like cover for wiping at his face. “Let’s go home.” 

“What about the boat tomorrow?” 

Louis shook his head. “No point. Really. We did what we set out to do. I just wanna go home.” 

It pained Liam to let it go, to leave when he still felt like important things had been left unsaid, yet he could hear the defeat in Louis’ voice, the scared sound Liam hadn’t heard since Louis found the train ticket in his things. Going home wasn’t what Liam wanted, but he was willing to give up what he wanted for Louis, whatever it took to make that tremor in Louis’ voice go away. 

\----

"Motherfuck!" Louis yelled out to no one in particular, Liam at the cafe working and most of the other tenants out at their jobs too. It had only been three days since they got home, so Louis was still trying to relish in the alone time after being cooped up in a van with someone for days, but he'd rather Liam was there to kiss the red mark across his palm from where a string had snapped on the electric.

That was why Louis liked the keyboard better, less hazardous to his health. If they had an actual piano, there would still be things like tuning and broken strings to worry about, but it wasn’t like they could afford one, nor get it up the narrow stairs. He'd only been futzing around with the guitar to tab out some of the weirder bridge chords for one of the less finished songs they'd come home with. He set the guitar and his notebook aside for a moment, cracking his sore knuckles and stretching out in the sad duct-taped bean bag chair that was the only available seating other than the bed.

Unemployment led Louis into some obsessive practice habits, needing something to do in their single room without going out, because if he went out he'd spend money. He started with writing out the farther along new songs out on proper staff paper, even though he didn't plan on selling them nor did he expect anyone but he or Liam to play them. Something about it made it feel more official, more solid.

Songwriting always came to him in fits and starts though, part of why it went so much better collaborating with Liam, who could get him from one idea to the next. Without Liam there to help whenever one of those fits came to a stop, Louis would switch to practicing covers. It was a particularly good activity when home alone because some of his choices were truly embarrassing, but those were the ones that always broke the ice with a stony crowd and, however bad, Atomic Kitten was forever linked with pubescent nostalgia for him. Louis wanted to surprise Liam with a good one, except he couldn't decide between funny and mushy.

Yesterday, all the pop earworms had somehow coalesced into a new melody in his head, one that really didn't fit his style or Liam's, not right for Niall or Zayn either, bouncy and bubblegum. He didn't really know how much a song went for, how many missed shifts it might cover, but working on it at least made Louis feel like he was contributing while he was out of work.

The obvious contribution would be to do the washing, the pile from before their trip blending into the clothes falling out of Louis' duffle, but rinsing tea mugs and plates had exhausted all of Louis' domesticity for the day. The lack of clean clothes was benefiting Louis too much anyway. Added to the heat, there was no good reason not to walk around the flat naked, sleep naked, sleep together naked. At the very least, it seemed the having sex part was not going to be limited to their trip, but it was a lot to fit into their existing relationship as writing partners and roommates.

For now, even with no label like boyfriends or _lovers_ , it was nice. It was better than nice, it was exciting, new and familiar at the same time, constantly tempting and indulging each other, the memories Louis worked so hard to hold on to the first night gaining detail with each additional chance he got to focus on Liam's body and reactions.

Louis jumped upon hearing the door open, as if he was caught doing a bit more than thinking about Liam and that constant temptation. He could control his features, but not the blush in his cheeks based on Liam's laugh as he walked in. "And what have you been up to while I'm out doing your shopping?"

"Shut it, it's just the heat. I've been working on lots of things. Things I want to show you." Liam smirked at the suggestive hint Louis hadn't even meant to put there, flirting banter much more actionable now. The way Louis' skin stuck to the pleather bag anywhere his shirt rode up was awful and yet he considered pulling it off, upping the ante despite the heat. Instead, he reached for the guitar, a miscalculation on his part with Liam piling on top of him. The suffocation and double body heat changed his mind about any kind of action. It was definitely too hot to breathe. "Oi, get off! Look at this, you broke one of the strings with this rough housing."

Liam rolled onto the floor, still leaning up against Louis' feet. "Really? This happened just now?" Louis tipped Liam's head back to look at him and nodded solemnly with eyes wide. Liam immediately giggled in response, so Louis mussed his hair in retaliation. Not that it was really muss-able anymore, a bare fraction of a centimeter long and fuzzy against Louis' palm.

"Remind me why you did this again?" Louis was still adjusting to it, not being able to tug on it or tease Liam with it. The only benefit he could see was less hair in his mouth when he slept.

Liam shrugged his shoulders against Louis' shins. "It was a commitment thing." Louis could have sworn the idea started with Zayn convincing Liam to let him shave it, but maybe Liam had started it. Either way, Louis was glad Liam had drawn the line at bleaching it, even if Niall said it wasn't difficult.

"Yeah, should have you committed." The word commitment made Louis want to change the subject again. He poked his toes into Liam's side until Liam grabbed at him and they tangled themselves into the strangest pretzel-like wrestling hold. Louis was comfortable enough with the concept, but saying it plain words was different. Maybe they'd never talk about it until it boiled over with Louis doing something stupid like telling Liam he was in love with him. Louis didn't quite know where the line between loving Liam and being in love with Liam was, but it was a terribly easy thing to imagine doing if he wasn't careful. Louis didn't have a great track record with careful.

Liam let go his hold and twisted to face Louis. "Well, _whoever's_ at fault for the string, it doesn't matter. I think we've only acoustic strings round here, but I can pick up a pack tomorrow at the music store."

Louis leaned over and kissed the top of Liam's fuzzy head. "Spoil me, why don't you?"

"It's true, I do. I got you ice pops and the instant coffee you asked for and washing powder," Liam hefted himself off the floor to put all the listed items and then some in their proper places, "and a job interview."

"I told you, I don't think me working at the cafe again will work out, I already know Danielle doesn't like me." Louis took the washing powder from Liam and placed it on top of the pile of clothes, hoping it might guilt him into action tomorrow. "Coffee with the medicine. Not getting caught out like that again with a hangover." Louis remembered leaving the pub, getting kebabs and a bottle of vodka to drink at Zayn's, but everything after opening that bottle was foggier. He was at least mostly sure they hadn't gotten caught making out in the stairwell, considering the lack of question mark filled texts from Zayn or exclamation mark filled texts from Harry.

"Maybe have fewer hangovers, if you've got a new job." Like Liam hadn't been nursing his own. "And it's not at the cafe. And Danielle likes you fine when you aren't late to shifts. It's at the bookstore next door, filled out the application for you and talked you up since the owner gets her coffee from us every morning."

Louis worried about Liam vouching for him again, considering how it kept working out. "What do I even know about books? I don't much like books."

"You do, though. You like funny books and music books and movies about books. That's more than enough to be nice to people while selling them a book." Liam finished tetris-ing items in the tiny freezer before turning around to say the next part directly to Louis. "And you haven't let me get to the best part. They have a bookstore cat."

Liam knew he'd get Louis with a pet. It would be better if it was a dog, but Louis was sold as they definitely couldn't have a pet where they live now and with how cash-strapped they always were. "It'd mean no tips."

"But I could buy you lunch with my discount sometimes." Liam gave Louis a tight squeeze and buried his head slightly into Louis' neck. "Yeah?"

Louis nodded and felt Liam smile rather than saw it. "Yeah, alright, if they'll have me."

Liam let go, beaming with accomplishment, and Louis moved to the bed. If Liam was going to return him to the responsibly employed so quickly, he better get started on what few naps he had left. Instead of joining him right away, Liam shucked off his jeans and patted down the pockets before adding them to the dirty laundry pile. "Oh, forgot this." From one of the pockets, he pulled out a matchbook from the Travelodge and tucked it over the top edge of the map on the wall. 

"Sap," Louis admonished like he hadn't been the one to pin the map from the trip up, with their photo booth strip from the mini-golf place and the takeaway menu Liam had grabbed from the pizza place on the way out tucked around it, creating a little corner of momentos. Louis beckoned Liam over for a cuddle. "Someday, we can have lots of dogs, right?"

Liam headed over with the other item from his pocket in his hand, his new shiny lighter from Louis. They didn't smoke in their place unless it was really pissing down, but Liam seemed to always be holding it, flipping it open and shut just to hear the noise. Louis hadn't realized until after gifting it that it didn't come with fluid and they'd both assumed it was broken until Zayn stepped in. Liam thought filling it was really bad ass and had promptly hid the butane from Louis. Liam crawled into the bed, considering Louis' question as he rolled over him. "Can't have dogs on the road, really, can we?"

"If it was a small enough one, we could, or you know, ship 'em off to stay with the folks during tours. Lots of dogs and lots more tattoos, that's our future, and you'll quit smoking when you lose your fancy lighter because I've stolen it back to make the constant fidgeting and ignoring me stop." Liam set aside the lighter with a laugh and cuddled Louis tighter, but Louis grumbled. "You left all the lights on."

"We've got to leave at least one on or we'll sleep too late and get all twisted." Louis wriggled in response, agreeing to the stipulation, but not about to get out of bed himself. He'd gotten his pillow all in the right spot. Liam climbed back over, turning off the overhead lights and leaving the tall lamp by the window on.

Louis watched as Liam as he walked around, the wave of awareness and contentedness rolling back over him. Louis couldn't see ever not wanting to be like this with Liam. He had almost lost him this weekend and, with how things were now, he didn't think he could handle something like that again.

Liam crawled back over Louis, smashing his pillow a few times before wrapping an arm around Louis' waist. "You're totally not planning on getting up, are you?"

"Guess you're stuck with me."

\-------------

By the time they were back in London it was dark, the city a smattering of blindingly bright lights, so different from the rest of the drive that had been through empty countryside. Louis had spent the last few minutes on the phone with his tour manager, fingers twisting tighter in his hair every time he’d assured the person on the other end of the line that things were fine, that everything was fine so long as he and Liam had their own space. At least he didn’t sound as angry about the requirement as he had when they’d first talked about it, but Liam wasn’t sure the distant tone to Louis’ voice was actually an improvement. 

He was driving on autopilot, taking what he thought was a long way back home, not thinking about where he was going, taking turns as he listened to the half of the conversation he was privy to, the low hum of music. All he wanted was for the moment to not end, to stay safe in the car and not let the outside world touch the tenuous balance they had between them. Liam likened it to the way his mum would take her plants inside in the winter, too worried the harsh weather would kill them. His truce with Louis was the same. A dangerous balance of friendship that could easily be broken. He’d even considered taking them to Harry’s let him sort them out, but Liam wasn’t sure how that would go and fear of even Harry not being able to fix what was broken made him turn a different way. 

It was Louis sitting up and squinting out the window that clued Liam into what he’d done without thinking about it. Liam had never been so proud of his subconscious. Because maybe things were _fine_ , but after what was said on the beach, Liam realized he wasn’t okay with _fine_. It wasn’t enough, not without knowing he had done everything he could. Louis made an excuse to get off the line and Liam paid closer attention to his driving, taking the turns on purpose now. If all they were ever going to be was friends, then Liam would do what it took to get over Louis, but to do that, he needed closure. He needed Louis to say it, direct and absolute. That there was no chance of it ever being more. Liam pulled up to the bedsit as Louis rung off, slowing the car into a spot across the road. It looked better in the city night, covering the rough edges, blurring them out the same way memories did. 

“Hard to remember sometimes, how far we’ve come,” Louis mumbled, fingers fidgeting at the hem of his shirt. 

Liam shrugged, ducking his head to see the building better, squinting at the window that had once been theirs. He wondered if the crack in the corner of it was still there, held together with tape and a prayer. “Looks about the same as your current place,” he teased, smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. 

Louis flung an arm out to playfully hit him, but when his fingers caught in Liam’s jumper, he held on to it. “I wonder if anyone lives there now.” 

“I wonder if they pay the rent on time.” 

“We weren’t late _every_ month.” 

Liam rolled his eyes, fingers catching Louis’ for a moment. “Not like it mattered. We could have paid early and there’d still not been any water pressure.” 

“Doubt that’s been fixed.” 

“Dunno,” Liam said, tracing the letters on the inside of Louis’ wrist, the ones in his handwriting. “Maybe someone handy moved in.” 

Louis snorted. “No one handy would live in a dump like this.” He turned back to Liam, head resting against the back of the seat, eyes searching Liam’s. 

Liam took a deep breath and pushed forward. “Remember how good we were?” 

Louis licked his lips and looked away, but didn’t pull his hand back. “I remember how horrible your hair was.” 

“Like you’ve got room to talk, you shaggy hedgehog.” It was Liam’s turn to roll his eyes, unable to help himself. 

“It’s a look,” Louis protested. 

“Not a good one.” Louis made a face at Liam, but didn’t protest. “If I promise not to cut mine during tour, will you at least trim yours up a little?” Liam watched the glitter in Louis’ eyes, mischief sparking up an idea. 

“I’ll hide your straightener…” 

Liam made a noise, but shrugged. “Fair. Better than you looking like a wet dog.” Louis flicked Liam off with his free hand, reminding Liam again that he hadn’t taken the other back. 

They were quiet, but it was different. It didn’t feel like the distance between them couldn’t ever be breached, but it felt like it was greater than it had been before. Liam had thought he could reach out and cross that No-Man’s Land, but it was so much more than that. 

“I’m sorry,” Liam blurted. 

Louis shook his head, shifting in his seat. “You already said that, let’s move on,” he grumbled, pulling his hand back, but Liam held tight to Louis’ wrist. 

“I don’t want to move on.” Louis opened his mouth to interrupt, but Liam shook his head. “You didn’t let me finish. Not before. Not ever. You’re going to let me, just this once, even if it kills you.” Liam eyed Louis, daring him to say more, but Louis eventually waved at him for Liam to continue. Liam took a deep breath, anxious about finally having the floor and the words that he needed to say, but it might be his only chance, one he couldn’t blow. 

“I am sorry. I’m so sorry. I...I gave up. I got scared. I ran away. You’re right. I ran away. And when I had the chance to make it up, to explain how much it hurt me, I didn’t. I swallowed it all down and kept it to myself.” 

“Liam-” 

“No. I should have said something. From the first night. From the very first instant. I loved you then.” Liam swallowed. “And I never stopped.” 

The air was heavy with the admission and Liam closed his eyes so he didn’t have to look at the way Louis wasn’t looking at him. “We don’t have to… You don’t have to. But we can’t fight the whole tour.” 

“Can do. The internet loves when we fight.” 

Liam shook his head, reaching for his phone and flipping to his Twitter. He’d favorited a picture someone had tagged him in and he needed it now. “They just love _us_ ,” he said handing the phone over to Louis. The picture was a collage of the old days, something fans had put together, photos from Harry’s instagram or wherever else. Pictures on the internet never really went away. It was the two of them, smiling at first gigs, Liam’s hair in his eyes, Louis’ pants too bright to be rational. It was their good times together, when they were at their absolute best. 

“Looks like the damn map,” Louis murmured and Liam knew what Louis meant. When the map in his glove compartment hung on a wall, with pictures from someone’s borrowed instant camera, doodles on napkins, all the other pieces of their lives were tacked to it. Louis handed the phone back and shook his head. 

“You don’t want that though. You’ve got your _image_ to think about.” Louis chewed at the side of his thumb, his tone dismissive and hopeless as if there was no point in even trying.

“That is my image. Me and you. It’s always been you. Can’t you see that?” Liam shook his head. “I can’t blame them for liking this,” he said looking at the pictures again. “I always liked me best with you.” 

“Liam.” Louis’ voice was quiet, pained and Liam hated himself for even bringing it up. 

“It’s fine. I’ll take you home.” Liam changed his mind; he'd like Louis to be able to get out of the car right after he drove the final nail into Liam's heart. He went to put the car back in gear when Louis put a hand on his arm to stop him. 

“Not just…” Then Louis was opening his door and climbing out of the car. Liam felt himself panic, an irrational fear of Louis wilting in the outside world warring with the rational one where Louis was likely calling a cab to take him home, unable to spend another moment with him. Liam jumped out from his side, hurrying around, ready to make whatever promise Louis needed to get him back in the car. He’d take it all back if it saved what little they had. 

Only, when he got around the car, Louis didn’t have his phone out. Instead, he was leaning against the side of it, wiping away tears with the sleeve of his hoodie. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, voice watery and broken.

Liam turned his eyes up, trying to keep the tears that were blurring his vision from falling. “It’s okay, I understand. Louis, I hurt you. It’s too much to ask.” 

Louis tugged on Liam’s arm, forcing Liam to look at him and, like always, Liam complied. “That’s not what I’m apologizing for. For the rest of it. For not going after you. For not waiting. For not trying again. For not telling you.” He let his hand slide to Liam’s and squeezed it. “For not letting you apologize.” 

Liam held his breath, watching as Louis sucked at his teeth, clearly turning over what to say next, how to say it. He wasn’t sure what he wanted it to be, if it was too much to hope it wasn’t a rejection. 

Louis took a long breath, then laced their fingers together. “You know, when I got this," shaking his wrist to indicate the tattoo Liam had already reflexively slid his thumb over. Apparently, Liam's fixation had not gone unnoticed. "I thought it was going to help me get over you, remind me how much you changed. But you didn't, really, not the important parts. All it did was remind me of you, all the time, constantly. Guess what I'm trying to say is, I never stopped either.” 

Liam exhaled like the world was finally falling into place around him and he reached for Louis with his free hand to nuzzle at his cheek, pressing a kiss against the bone there. “Then we shouldn’t stop. Not ever again.” 

Louis’ smile came with tears and Liam kissed each one away. “I love you,” Liam murmured before kissing him properly. “So much.” 

Louis nodded, their foreheads bumping together. “You too,” he whispered, kissing Liam once more before pulling back. “No one’s going to believe us.” 

“Harry might,” Liam murmured, mixing kisses in with his words. His hand had slid down to Louis’ hip, drawing him closer. “Zayn might punch me though.” 

Louis laughed, bright and perfect, the way he used to before and wrapped his arms around Liam’s neck. “I won’t let him. He’ll understand. He knew how I felt.” Liam arched an eyebrow at that, but Louis just rolled his eyes in that overly fond way that Liam loved so much. “How I still feel. ‘Nother song about Liam, eh?’” He mimicked Zayn’s accent perfectly, which got a giggle out of Liam. 

“They’re going to lose their shit,” Liam sighed, but his hands curled under Louis’ arse, lifting him up a little. 

“So? That’s half the fun, right?” Louis winked and kissed Liam again, with more gusto and intention this time.

“Can we take this somewhere else?” Liam asked, but didn’t stop himself from kissing his way down Louis’ neck, loving the way Louis shivered at the touch. 

“What, a wank in the back of the car isn’t enough for you?” Liam felt Louis wince, and he pulled back when Louis pushed. “Sorry, that was...I shouldn’t have. I shouldn’t have done that. Pushed.” 

Liam raised a hand to run his thumb over Louis’ cheekbone. “Don’t. If I hadn’t wanted it, I wouldn’t have… we knew where it was going. We both did. Probably around the fourth shot we knew it was a chance.” 

Louis sighed, looking up then back at Liam, nodding slowly. “Yeah, I guess I did. Or I knew I’d try.” 

“And I knew I’d never say no,” Liam admitted. He slipped his hand under Louis’ shirt pressed at the skin of his lower back. “Was that what all the back and forth was about? Hating me, not hating me?” he asked. 

"That Tomlinson charm you fell in love with?" Louis shrugged, fingers pressing against the shaved hair on the back of Liam’s neck. “Mostly. I...I never thought this. Us. But…” 

“You wanted it.” Louis nodded and Liam felt like he had all those years ago, like he really did know what Louis was thinking. Like he’d always known and all the time he’d struggled with not knowing was on him, not on how well he knew Louis. “I do too. I still do. Let me take you home and show you?” Slowly. Because they had all the time in the world to sort it out, to figure out how to make it work again. 

“Yeah, alright,” Louis said, a little breathless as Liam pulled away. Liam reached for the passenger door, opening and holding it for Louis. 

“Then get in the car, Louis.” He waved at the open door and grinned, relieved to see Louis grin back.


	2. Epilogue

It wasn't that Harry didn't like coming in early and hanging out with Nick at work, but normally they'd be onto a nap by noon, not trying to share a chair in Fearne's studio listening to Liam perform an acoustic version of his first number one. At the same time, Harry still would have been there even if Nick hadn't invited him, as Harry was still struck with a bit of disbelief every time he saw Liam and Louis smile at each other.

He'd had the most time of anyone to adjust to the idea, the first person they told about their reconciliation and Harry hoped, any day now, he'd stop bracing for screaming and insults every time he turned a corner at a venue to see them talking. There were still insults, but the kind that came accompanied by smirks and pinches and kissing. So much kissing. They weren't going to make it a month into tour without it getting out. Harry had always had his suspicions about how far past friendship things had gone between the two of them years ago, considering how deep the rift had been between them afterwards, but it seemed like an impossible secret now.

The song was piped into their booth, but the microphones were turned off while interns shuffled around Newsbeat papers, and to be fair, Harry had heard it literally hundreds of times. "Did you know Louis actually recorded the song first before Liam used it as his demo?" he said to Nick, getting close to his ear without actually whispering. "Put it up on YouTube. Been taken down since, but internet is forever and all. It's like a thing, on the websites, which version is your favorite? There can only be one."

"I didn't know that. Find it for me later, I want to hear." Nick made a slightly more concerted effort at whispering in short sentences, but it didn't keep him from talking. It wasn't out of professional respect so much as he wanted a chance to jump into the interview and needed to get his timing right. "Whose do you like better?"

"Nope, I get an exemption. Part of the whole Treaty Agreement of Oh-Twelve. You still have to chose though."

"Treaty Agreement? Are you serious?"

"Not having to worry about shared custody has made the last four months the easiest of my life." That wasn't entirely true. In the first two months, Harry had picked up every late night phone call expecting to hear tears, but instead there was laughing. The day Liam's Attitude coming out cover story hit shelves, Harry downloaded Twitter back onto his phone to watch the trending tags, in case Liam might need comfort. Liam had set up the piece through his personal PR and had expected some kind of blow up at the label when they found out, but they just muttered about new release schedule strategies and said they were happy for him, perfunctorily and empty in tone, but not mad. Apparently, Louis had been right that Liam's sophomore album numbers had earned him the right to some pushback. Harry had still been in America for the new matching tattoos, but they Facetimed him during, mostly so their jokes about each other's pain tolerance would have an audience.

"Being in Los Angeles in the sunshine is what makes your life easy, love, far far away from these idiots and from me too."

"Is that what you -" Nick got up right in the middle of Harry's rebuttal to grab the mike from Fearne, not distracted a bit from his perfect timing.

"That was really, really good. Still like that one," Nick said, ostensibly talking to Fearne. The band was already getting set up for the next song and Liam and Louis were both on mike now. "Did you know Louis wrote on that song?"

"No, I did not, are you a secret Louis Tomlinson super fan?" Fearne rolled her eyes, not sure where Nick was going but indulging at least for the moment.

"No, no, I'm here for the Beckham one." Harry almost spit out his water as Liam hid his face in his elbow, forgetting momentarily they were all on camera. "No, but really, you guys have known each other for literally forever, right? You must be really close."

Louis leaned up on the mike and answered, in a fake deep voice, "Very close." Niall sat in the corner behind his guitar, part of their touring band, and it was his turn to lose it, as Liam regained some of his composure, face still bright red. Zayn tightened a cymbal, but was smirking too.

"Jokes aside, I honestly would not be standing here if it wasn't for Louis, and I love him more than I can say." Harry appreciated Liam's honesty, walking the line between the truth and the whole truth. In the Attitude interview, Liam had been asked about boyfriends and he was ready for it, having reached a compromise with Louis. Liam told them he had been in a long term relationship for years, but there had been ups and downs, on and off, that he had tried to date other people when they were separated, but his heart was elsewhere. He also made a point to say he had let tabloids run with pictures of him with friends and didn't correct others assumptions as a way to protect his private life while he dealt with those relationship troubles. He had stayed vague though, as Louis' camp had requested a few additional months to deal with what would now be Louis' image problem, their unpredictable bad boy now someone's long term partner.

Fearne wrestled her show back, saying how sweet Liam's comment was and introducing Louis' solo track, while Nick turned around to make gagging faces at Harry. "Are they really like that? All gushy and earnest."

"Have you heard their songs?" Harry said, like that was answer enough.

"Yeah, but there's a lot of crying into your Haagen-Daas songs in there, too." Of course, Harry could remember plenty of cruel things Liam and Louis had both said in the depths of their heartbreak, but moving on meant moving past and now they had been together longer than they had the first time. 

"Well, so far so good on writing new happy songs, I think. I've been able to keep my apartment and my tour bus to myself so things must be going okay."

"Tour bus? Thought you were back to the States at the end of the week."

"Nah, I've got a free road trip worked out for the summer. The extra bus Louis demanded is gonna sit empty otherwise, contracts signed months ago and down payments made. Always welcome in case you need to get out of the city." Maybe it was time for Harry to get an on-again relationship too, while romance was catching.

Louis' song wrapped up and Fearne began her next chat and lead in. "Alright, we've heard a song from each and the new song they've written together for this tour, our song of the day, is coming up soon, but now it's time for their cover. Makes sense, doing a duet, right?"

Louis took the answer again. "It works, because despite the name, it really is a great pop song and a great rock song and I think we've got all of that between the two of us."

"And it's one that keeps you focused on the good things," Liam finished, mooning for the whole world to see. Two weeks. Two weeks tops before it was on the front page of The Sun.

"Alright, here is Louis Tomlinson and Liam Payne, for BBC Radio One Live Lounge, covering Fall Out Boy's Save Rock and Roll."


End file.
